Planet Vampire
by irrevocably-twisted
Summary: Human Bella is awaiting her fate as the next item on the menu in a world ruled by the bloodthirsty undead. Vampire Edward is tired of the ease of vampire life and longs for the challenge of the hunt. Bella becomes a bigger challenge than he bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

**Bella**

From the moment my heart started beating, I have been destined to die.

The blood that courses through my body and sustains my life is also what ensures the premature ending of it. I have been told there was a time when humans died of old age, but that time was long before I came into this world. I've lived a total of seventeen years at the Olympic Peninsula Blood Mill, or O. P. B. M., and for that I am lucky. The vampires typically make use of us around our twelfth year of life, when the body has grown large enough to satisfy and the blood is still fresh and innocent.

I am sure it's just a matter of time for me, though. 95% of all humans are drained before they reach twenty.

I gaze around the dull gray room lined with bunk beds that serves as home to me and 299 other girls my age. It is a holding cell where the vampires keep us until our time to live runs out. As I continue my scanning, a few of my companions peer up at me from their beds below. Our eyes meet, and I know we are all thinking the same thing:

_How much longer?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Edward**

The ground is slick beneath my feet from the recent rain. I can smell the moisture in the air as I run. My surroundings are perfectly clear, yet blur in combination with the rate at which I'm moving. And James is nowhere to be seen.

One side of my mouth lifts in amusement. I had warned him a race between the two of us would only succeed in humiliation on his part, but James was annoyingly persistent. He suffers from a superiority complex that seems to plague more and more of the population as time passes. Perhaps this will be an educational experience for him.

Deciding I'd made my point, I loop around; changing course to return home. The familiar trees and bushes outlining our property greet me a few moments later, several of the trees having been deliberately uprooted in yet another act of defiance against the Cullens. Esme planted them herself in hopes of some privacy, and I am saddened to see her efforts ruined once again.

Ruined because our society is defined by the words 'survival of the fittest' and everyone is always trying to find a way up the proverbial ladder. It was that principle, after all, that led to the revolution of our kind and the inevitable downfall of the humans. The ease of it all continues to astound me.

Seemingly overnight we went from surviving in secret, stalking our prey in the shadows of darkness and existing in constant fear of discovery, to dominating the planet. The victory was so fast, so effortless, we were all left wondering why we hadn't acted sooner. Humans may have had the advantage in numbers, but our advantages overpowered them so entirely (many of them did not even believe in our existence at the time) that the fight was over before it really even began. It is truly nonsensical for the prey to rule the predator.

So now, in a mockery of how the humans once treated their cows, pigs, and chickens, the blood filled are contained in institutions called 'blood mills' where they are housed until the appropriate time to take their blood arises. The blood is then packaged and shipped, and the satisfaction we once had to seek out is handed to us on a silver platter.

But as much as instant gratification is wonderful, it is also incredibly boring. It has been like this for so long now.

What I wouldn't give for the excitement of resistance, of the chase… To look into the eyes of my target, eyes filled with terror, wide and horrified…To feel the heat radiating from the living body, to hear the thudding of its pulse… To run my hands over the glimmering, sweat-coated flesh and watch as my victim shudders from the frigid unnatural temperature only it is alive enough to recognize…And, finally, to skim my nose across the deliciously fragile neck and revel in its piercing cry of agony as I greedily devour the life from it's every cell…

I am brought away from my fantasy by Emmett and Jasper, growling wildly at one another from opposite ends of the living room.

Our coven is by no means seated at the head of the round table of vampirism, but we are fairly influential. Hence the need felt by others to destroy our property. That influence was brought to us through our unique kinship with each other that few other covens possess. However, claiming our place at the top of the food chain has had an effect on our temperaments. With the necessity to cling to secrecy gone, with the humans and their moral ways thoroughly extracted from our existence, there is nothing standing in the way of us and our animalistic nature. Scenes like the one before me are a common occurrence, even for us now.

"Emmett! Jasper! Calm yourselves!" I demand firmly, recalling the destruction they'd left in the wake of their last spout.

"He threatened me," Emmett explains through gritted teeth.

"Only because you invaded my space," Jasper justifies.

Emmett throws his hands in the air, a gesture of disbelief, "_Your _space? Oh, I'm sorry, I must have been under the impression this house belongs to all of us!"

Another earsplitting growl escapes from Jasper as he takes a furious step toward his brother.

"This house belongs to Carlisle and Esme, and I doubt they would appreciate the pair of you ripping it to pieces," I inject quickly.

Mentioning Carlisle and Esme has the desired effect. I observe them as they both take a less defensive stance and slowly return to normal. Then I sigh, leaning tiresomely against the wall, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers as I return to my previous train of thought.

"Did you race James?" Emmett asks.

I nod.

"Still thought he could beat you, huh?"

"Apparently," I say.

"Stupid son of a bitch," Emmett concludes, and he is right.

But for my speed, I would probably have been a pile of ash many years ago.

"You're extremely bored, Edward," Jasper states, "Why?"

"How could I not be bored?" I wonder in return, "There is nothing to work for anymore."

"He's still itching for a human to chase after," Emmett guesses correctly, "You know, Edward, why don't you just go to the O. P. B. M. and get one? I'm sure they'd have some to spare."

The imaginary light bulb above my head erupts in a spontaneously brilliant glow. Why didn't I think of that before?

I grin, "Emmett, you are a genius."


	3. Chapter 3

**Bella**

"Why do you even bother?" Angela, the girl who sleeps to the left of me, questions. Her eyes watch with misunderstanding while I tame the mess of blankets beneath me into neatness.

I shrug, "I don't know, why not? It looks better this way."

"I guess it does," she agrees, giving me a small smile before beginning to straighten her own sheets.

I like Angela. She's someone I've gotten to know fairly well, since our numbers are close together. The vampires don't put very much effort into educating us; whether we can effectively communicate or not is of little importance to them. In fact, they would probably rather we couldn't communicate at all if their facial expressions are any indication. But Angela and I have both built extensive vocabularies for ourselves, and we speak often.

Sometimes I wonder if she and I are related. It's hard to know considering none of us have ever met our parents. Monitoring our population is one job the vampires take very seriously. If it wasn't for the undead, I wouldn't even know what the opposite sex looks like.

But I prefer it that way, given the alternative. We all know the horror stories of those selected to increase our numbers. Those that make up 4% of the remaining five after the drained-before-twenty majority are taken from the equation…

I was twelve when those horror stories became reality.

_There were a lot more of us then. A thousand kept in a room much larger than the one housing the three hundred of us left. We all knew more than half of us would die that year, and spent a lot of sleepless nights rolling around restlessly; flinching at the slightest creak in the walls. If only the creaks were all we had to listen to…_

_Because they do away with so many of them, the room where the twelve year olds are kept is conveniently close to the Draining Room. We knew that. What we didn't know was exactly _how _close. _

_I remember the day the vampires started taking them as if it were seared into my brain with liquid metal. Every morning for seven mornings they came to collect them. And every morning for seven mornings none of them came back._

_The vampires worked backwards through our numbers (digits we were labeled with at birth for identification purposes) so that whoever was left over when they were finished wouldn't have to be relabeled. My number is one hundred forty nine. They stopped at four hundred._

"_That is all, for now," one of the female vampires announced as numbers five hundred thru four were whisked away, "I suppose the rest of you are just lucky."_

_But I felt anything but lucky, lying there everyday for seven days, listening to the screams of hundreds._

_A single, cheaply made wall did little to dilute the symphony of suffering just next door. And as if the cries alone weren't hard enough to bear, the begging and pleas to stop the torture we could only imagine made the situation impossible._

_After they stopped coming for us, we thought the terrible noises would cease. It was only a foolish hope. There were many age groups outside of ours that were in need of downsizing. _

_And then there was the 4%..._

_Unbeknownst to us, there was another room apart from the Draining Room that was filled with torture and equally near. We don't have a name for it, we never talk about it, but it is the room where the downsizing is made up for. The only room where human males and females are allowed to coexist. _

_However, _allowed _is not the appropriate word for what was happening in that room. I only wish it were. _Forced _was what was happening in that room. And the things we were unwilling listeners to twisted my insides until all that came of my stomach's useless heaving was air._

_We_ _knew from day one we were going to die, but we didn't know that death would be slow and painful. We knew from day one we had parents, but we didn't know the hell they went through to get us here_.

"_Death is definitely worse," a quiet voice said one night, the first to say a word about the terror that had been happening all around us, "A longer life is worth anything."_

"_Ya," a few of the girls who couldn't talk very well responded._

_More agreed after them, and a general consensus was made that no matter how nauseating the other option, the Draining Room would always hold rank as the most horrid fate imaginable. _

I never agreed with them. Death is something I already accept, and if it has to be torturous, at least it will come to end. The unnamed room is what haunts my dreams at night. I would rather die a million times over than face it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bella**

The vampires are here to give us breakfast. There are two men today; passing meals back to us with irritated expressions on their faces. What a shame that their food source requires such demanding care. I don't think I've ever seen one of them smile throughout all the time I've been at the blood mill. It's probably ridiculous to be bothered by that, given the circumstances, but if they're going to drink our blood, they could at least be friendly.

As I stare at them, I realize there _is_ something more revolting than ending up in the unnamed room after all. The disgusting destiny that befalls on 1% of humans: To contribute to the ever-inflating populous of immortals.

To be transformed into a vampire…

A shudder runs down my spine at the thought. Forget about dying. I'd stay in that damn unnamed room for an entire lifetime and then some before I'd even consider joining their ranks.

In an attempt to sidetrack myself from these thoughts, I turn to Angela and start conversation. The meaningless babble flows easily between us. Soon we are laughing, the glum mood that my reflections have cast on me lifting from my heavy mind with relief.

Then our stone-face servers of the day, who normally pace up and down the rows to keep an eye on everyone, pause directly behind me. Angela goes on chattering obliviously while my muscles lock in place. Were they going to take me? Take Angela? Was someone's life about to end?

I can hear they're eerily smooth voices speaking back and forth. Holding my breath, I tune out Angela and strain my ears…

"…taking three hundred thru one fifty tomorrow."

"Only half?"

"The rest are going to be sent to Reproduction. I'm going to oversee _that_ personally. If the blood filled aren't performing up to speed, I'll show them how it's done."

"Like hell you will. All these fucking humans haven't even got laid, and they still have more experience then you've had in the last eighty years."

The last one to speak laughs at his distasteful joke as they continue to make their way down the line.

Even with they're presence no longer pressing on me, I stay frozen. I run they're words over again in my head. What did they mean….?

_Taking three hundred thru one fifty tomorrow… The rest are being sent to Reproduction…_

A startlingly loud gasp echoes off the walls. The soft background murmur of voices gives way to dead silence. The overseers whirl around at a speed only their kind can accomplish. I can see three hundred and one pairs of eyes all wide and…staring at me. The gasp came from me. Oh.

"Bella?" Angela whispers with concern.

"Is there a problem?" one of the vampires asks icily. They hate speaking to lower life forms, and I can see his irritation is reaching maximum capacity. His ruby eyes shoot daggers at me.

My hands start to shake.

"N-n-no," I stammer. I don't think he would appreciate a lengthy explanation very much, so I leave it at that.

"Good." He turns his attention away from me instantly, as if I am not deserving of it.

The others hesitantly return to their meal, but Angela continues to stare.

"Are you okay?" she presses.

"Yeah," I answer, even if it will only be true for the next twenty four hours.

She stares at me for awhile longer. It dawns on me belatedly that she will be taken to the Draining Room tomorrow. As number one fifty, she just missed the cut off. I wonder if I should tell her, tell everyone, but soon decide against it. It isn't as though they could do anything about it but worry anyway. Who am I to deny them their last peaceful day on Earth?

I wish I was in her place. She is one of the many that would do anything to avoid death, and here I sit, longing for it. Just thinking of where I'll be, with that sick overseer watching me…

No.

I will not go there.

I would rather die, and so I _will _die. All I need to do is rebel. To attempt something outside of the vampire code of law. Something like…like…

The answer washes over me so suddenly, I have to cover my mouth to prevent another head-turning gasp.

All I need to do is try to escape.

A/N: Just a notice to all who read this; I'm going on vacation tomorrow and won't be back until Tuesday night. So, as much as I would love to update (the next chapter is where Bella and Edward finally meet) I won't be able to. Thank you so much for reading and, if you have time to give me some feedback, I'd love to hear what you're thinking so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Edward**

The entire way to O. P. B. M, I was preparing myself for an assault. With all of the blood collected there, I was positive the scent would be intolerable. I am glad my first steps inside proved me wrong; greeting me instead with the artificially sweet smell of cleaning chemicals.

The building seems similar in structure to a hospital. Countless long corridors stretch out in front of me with rooms sporadically dotting the walls. Peculiar that it all appears so empty. I would expect better security in a facility such as this.

Curiously, I peer into a few of the quarters hoping to see some of the humans I seek. Much to my disappointment, they are devoid of life as well. An unsettling feeling drops upon me.

_Is this the right place?_

Perhaps I should go back outside and check to make certain. But I remember the sign proclaiming it to be the blood mill precisely, and vampire memories are never mistaken. Maybe they moved to another location; leaving this building dormant. Or there is a possibility that-

The beat of heavy, uneven footsteps interrupts my musings. The clamor is hurried, but the rate of travel is excruciatingly gradual. My brow raises a fraction of an inch. No vampire would move in such a way. Every shift of weight in our enhanced bodies is unfailingly silent. We do not have wide variations in skill, as is true of the blood filled. Our coordination, instinct, and ability are all ingrained in each of us to guarantee success…

And then there is another sound. A beat.

_Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom._

The thudding of a pulse. Of a heart. Of a life.

Of a human.

A _human_.

The sounds grow louder as their heavy feet draw them nearer. Labored breaths accompany the other vital instruments, leading me to conclude it is running. Racing toward me with all of the grand effort once so commonly exerted to flee.

Quickening my pace, I continue forward down the hall. The level of anticipation I feel to see the human is shocking. It is as though all of the time apart from them has made their existence in the world less real, and only when I lay eyes on one of them will it again become concrete.

Scent always precedes sight, though, and I tense waiting for it to hit me. Shockingly, nothing comes. Only the chemicals I've been inhaling for the past few minutes taint the air.

Still moving with caution, I reach the end of the corridor. I pause for a moment, eyes transfixed on the wall before me, listening as the human bolts noisily closer. The knowledge that a simple turn to the left would place it directly in my line of sight pains me.

I watch the moving figure out of the corner of my eye for a matter of seconds that stretches on for an eternity. The instant I pivot around to face it is the exact instant the human notices me.

She, for it is undoubtedly a woman, comes to a sudden halt. Her breathing cuts off into a strangled gasp, her limbs freeze in place, her heart stops altogether before picking up double-time.

And all the while I stare at her.

She is clothed in a simple white gown, so bland and stiff I am sure it is a uniform. The fabric ends at her knees, which are pale and spotted with bruises. Her feet are not covered, but only slightly dusted with dirt. The uniform completely masks her midsection, a slight bunching of fabric being the only indication of breasts. However, the sleeve stops just below her shoulder; leaving her arms bare. They match what is visible of her legs, equally discolored and bruised.

Her chest rises and falls erratically in her distress. The tendons in her neck being regularly exposed. I pause there, on her neck…

The hair atop her head is long and brown. It appears clean, but unkempt; flowing uninterrupted past her waist. Her mouth hangs open slightly, framed by full, blood enriched lips. Her cheek bones are high and flushed. Her eyes are…Are….

Her eyes are opened wide, and locked into mine. They are a brown that could belong only to a human. Fear pours out of them at an intoxicating rate. Those eyes bring back so many nights, so many pursuits. But beyond the fear, there is emptiness. There is no hope in those eyes for survival. And I have never been more aware of just how far the humans have fallen than I am right now, staring into her eyes.

I do not hear his approach in my distracted state, but I see the arm that reaches out and ensnares her from behind. She comes to life immediately, arms and legs flailing uselessly in resistance.

"Let me go!" she screams, a cry so vehement it sends vibrations through the walls.

The deadness I'd seen in her gaze stands totally at odds with the determination she is displaying now, even as one of the hands belonging to her captor curls around her neck.

"Who are you?" the vampire asks, predictably unaffected by the girl's struggles.

I answer a beat late, "My name is Edward Cullen. I'm here in search of some…entertainment. I was hoping you might have a few humans to spare."

The man's hand migrates higher on the human's neck.

"We don't give away livestock," he says shortly, "And there are no extras."

The woman in his grasp screams again, kicking furiously. He growls in irritation and resituates his grip once again so her mouth is covered.

"I see," I say, as his fingers tighten around her fragile flesh.

The muscles in his arm flex and it is then I realize what he plans to do. To snap the human's neck. To end her life in a completely pointless, wasteful manner.

Her eyes bore into mine once again, full of fight and fury, and, most surprisingly of all, triumph. As if the ultimate demise she is facing now is a victory rather than a defeat. She lets loose another scream, still loud, but muffled. And in that moment, what could be her final moment, I know two things:

First, she is beautiful.

And second, she must be mine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bella**

My escape is truly a suicide mission. There's no getting around that fact, and as I exit the room unnoticed by everyone, I can't resist a look back over my shoulder. It seems too easy to slip away. But _seems_ is the key word in that observation. I know death is just around the corner.

Silent goodbyes at last complete, I take my first step out into the hall half expecting vampire guards to be waiting for me. When I find none, I hesitate uncertainly before taking off into a full run. This is supposed to be an escape, after all, and as a child I always wanted to sprint through the maze of the mill.

Unfortunately, my body is not accustomed to running and my heart is pounding by the time I reach the first turn. Vampires do not wait for me there either. A false sense of security couples with relief to create a pathetic hope. Deep down I know there is no hope for someone like me in a place like this, but I let myself believe in it anyway.

That is when I make my second turn. I wonder what I would do if there was a chance I could leave O.P. B. M. I shut my eyes imagining the things I would see, hear, touch, taste, smell…

And then I open them again to find a vampire standing just a few feet away, directly in front of me.

My momentary hope shatters and, without permission, everything in my body stops. I always thought being 'paralyzed by fear' was an expression, but I don't know how else to explain the sudden complete refusal by my muscles to move. So I am left frozen with nothing else to do but stare like an idiot at my own personal grim reaper.

I expect him to fly at me and snap my neck, as I've seen others do to previous 'rebels', but he remains where he is, scanning me from toe to head with something resembling fascination. A wave of confusion compels me to search him for answers, and I get a fairly good look at the unusually behaving vampire as a result.

In order to make them appealing to us, all vampires are designed to be easy on the eyes. Every vampire I've had the misfortune of coming in contact with has followed that general rule. This one is no exception. But, while I've come to hate their too-perfect faces and detest their sculpted physiques, I can find no such resentment toward the glorious being before me.

The sharp angles of his face, the mass of messily organized bronze hair, the flawlessness of his skin, and even the terror of his telling ruby eyes, do not strike any repulsion in me whatsoever.

They do strike something else in me, however. An oddly pleasant sensation in the pit of my stomach that gives me the spontaneous, unfulfilled compulsion to smile. I ponder the strange feeling until the vampire meets my eyes and I find a name for it: attraction. I am attracted to this creature that I fear to the point of total paralysis. And it is for this reason that I do not, cannot, drop his gaze.

As disgusted as I am with myself, I guess I am lucky to have experienced being drawn to someone else. Even if that someone is a vampire who will be ending my life shortly. Having his face be the last thing I see is surely an improvement over a face I cannot stand to even glance at.

Just as I am finding peace with my killer, the stone arm of another yanks me backwards.

The spell over my limbs is broken, and I am angry. Fighting against his grasp will do nothing to benefit me, but neither will staying still. And so I do fight with everything I have because at least then I will die trying to live.

"Let me go!" I shout, the venom of my own voice taking me by surprise. It is amazingly satisfying to be able to scream at the monster; to finally act on my rage.

I'm so consumed with my wrath, in fact, that if his hand weren't so cold, I wouldn't have noticed the vampire taking hold of my throat.

"Who are you?" he demands, close enough that his cold breath raises the hair on the back of my neck.

At first I am taken aback; vampires never ask that of a lowly human. But the vampire I cannot find it in myself hate opens his mouth, and I realize Cold Breath is not speaking to me.

"My name is Edward Cullen. I'm here in search of some…entertainment. I was hoping you might have a few humans to spare."

The one restraining me does not seem to like what Edward Cullen had to say. I can feel it in his hand, which constricts slightly on its journey up my neck. His words confirm my assumption, "We don't give away livestock. And there are no extras."

If I weren't about to die, I would run their words over and analyze them for what they really meant in regards to the other humans and I. However, I am about to die and so there is no real reason to do that. Instead, I focus on the vampire's use of the term 'livestock' and take it out on him with my legs and another yell. The yelling seems more effective than anything else I have to offer as he growls and covers my mouth to prevent it from happening again.

"I see," the vampire called Edward answers calmly.

The hand on my face constricts again, squeezing too hard this time. I can feel in the tension of the vampire's grip that this is the end. That he will soon twist his wrist and it will all be over.

But it will be over the way _I _want it to be over. I will never set foot in either of those horrible rooms. No twelve year old girl is going to be tormented by _my_ cries. No disgusting monster is going to oversee _me_.

I am safe.

I have won.

My blood is still _mine_.

In a twisted sort of way, I have more control of my life now than I ever have before. I look to Edward Cullen once more. I've already decided I want him to be the last thing I see, and, even if he is not my murderer, he still can be. I haven't decided on last words yet, what with a vampire hand in my way and all, so I scream one last scream. I hope it pisses Cold Breath off big time.

And, with one last look at my final sight, I shut my eyes and-

My face is suddenly freed.

"Stop," says Edward Cullen's much closer voice.

I open my eyes to find him inches away, grasping the hand that had been holding my face by the wrist.

His head tilts slightly in my direction, "What about her?"

The other vampire rips his hand free angrily, exposing his teeth, "What _about _her?"

"Why can't I take her? She's obviously of no use to you. What is the difference between you killing her here, now, and me killing her elsewhere, later?"

A growl in my ear is the only response.

"If you don't let me have her willingly, I will take her by force," Edward threatens flatly.

"Fine, then," vampire two snaps, "Take her."

His arms release me entirely. I tumble to the floor in a heap at Edward Cullen's feet. I lay there, afraid to move with the tension between the vampires pressing down on me.

Minutes pass, and, slowly, I lift my head.

The pair glare at each other with menacing eyes, neither blinking or breaking contact. And then, by the smallest of degrees, still not surrendering his focus, Edward begins to lower himself. He continues to inch downward until he is resting in a crouch at which point he takes my arm in a frigid clasp and starts to lift me.

Our company roars and abruptly lunges at us, baring his teeth. And in an instant Edward Cullen is on his feet, dropping my arm, and shoving the other vampire through the air and into the wall at the end of the hall. The crash is thousands of times louder than my screams. I stare in shock at the awful mess that once was concrete and drywall.

"We have to leave now, human," Edward says quickly.

Without any further warning, his hand is back on my arm. And the moment I am able to comprehend that much, his coldness is surrounding me, befuddling me once more. I am able to hear the distant growl of what we are leaving behind, but then the noise disappears; taking the only world I've ever known along with it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Edward**

The human I hold in my arms is unbelievably warm. Her aura of heat alone is enough to flood my mouth with venom. But that is all I can sense from her, heat, and nothing more. Even at this close proximity, the chemicals continue to obliterate every other scent in the atmosphere.

I am briefly disappointed, but then the mill is behind us and I cannot smell anything that _isn't _her. The burning sensation that is my thirst awakens with a jolt. Without even thinking about it, I bring my face nearer to her; almost completing the picture I can already see in crystalline clarity in my mind. The picture of me drinking from her….

But I will not waste this human on an instantaneous satisfaction I could easily achieve from bodiless blood. No, I sought out this human for the thrill of the hunt, and so I will have to wait.

I list possible hunting locations to myself before settling on a patch of woods not far from where we are now. Changing direction, I race toward what is left of the forest with unmatched enthusiasm.

The short run seems painstakingly long in my impatience, but eventually we arrive. I halt at the edge of the trees, releasing the human from my grasp. If I was more accustomed to traveling with human passengers, perhaps I would have known the movement was too swift for her to land properly. As it is, she is sent straight to the ground.

"Oof," she huffs upon impact.

I wait for her right herself…

And she doesn't.

Instead, her eyes take on a slightly glazed appearance and transfix themselves on what is above them. I glance upward, but the consistently cloudy sky over our heads is empty. I cannot recall any of the humans from my past behaving this way. However, none of them were ever raised in a blood mill. I wonder if she is mentally stable. She did attempt to run away from vampires, after all….

I sigh and take her arm, hefting her to her feet as I did before.

She gasps, her muscles tensing at my touch.

I do not release her once she is standing, though her wide brown eyes watch me expectantly. I begin to formulate a plan while I hold her there, the increasing tempo of her heartbeats acting as a driving force behind my scheming.

Then, using her arm for leverage, I pull her to me.

She takes another sharp breath as she collides with my chest. Her entire body is tense now, heart racing, adrenaline seasoning the air. I trade her arm for a more secure hold on her waist. She does not look at me, but I can feel her shaking in fear.

I smile, placing my free hand under her chin and tilting her head up. Her gasping grows louder, her shaking more severe. I lean in to take advantage of her extended neck. I press my nose against her throat, inhaling deeply, committing the scent to memory….

The girl becomes increasingly distressed by my actions, trying feebly to free herself from my hands. I pull back just enough to observe her shutting her eyes tightly. I chuckle as I lean in once more, watching her skin turn to gooseflesh under my breath.

My own eyes slide shut as I continue to descend my nose over her windpipe.

"I'm not going to kill you now, human," I murmur as I near her collar bone, "Relax."

She shudders in reply.

A second smile creeps on to my face and I suck in another lungful of her. Slowly, I place my lips against her warmth.

_Ahhh…_

She freezes.

"I'm not going to kill you," I say again.

This time we both need convincing. I can feel myself locking down too, preparing to end what hasn't even had a chance to begin.

_Wasteful, wasteful, wasteful…_ I chant silently before hesitantly relinquishing my hold on her.

She retreats from me immediately, almost falling another time in her haste.

I point into the trees.

"Lose yourself in the wilderness. I'll come after you when the sun sets."

The human glances in the direction I am pointing and bolts away. Her heavy footsteps growing softer as the distance between us lengthens.

I break into a sprint of my own; returning home to recount my human to Emmett and Jasper.

A/N: Seven reviews last chapter! Thank you all so much! I loved reading your comments. I hope to get chapter 8 posted tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Edward**

I half expect to walk in on Emmett pinning Jasper to the floor (it wouldn't be the first time), but the living room is surprisingly peaceful. I suspect that that peace has a lot to do with the presence of Carlisle and Esme. Their serene faces smile at me from the sofa.

"Thank you for saving my furniture, Edward," Esme says, "Jasper tells me we would have come home to complete chaos if it weren't for you."

"My pleasure," I answer dryly, earning a few chortles.

Walking further into the room, I fold my legs beneath me and sit, "I'm sorry I can't say the same about your trees. Where are Alice and Rosalie? Weren't they with you?"

Esme nods, "They were, but they decided to stop off for blood. They should be back soon."

"Speaking of blood," Carlisle adds, "You look reasonably thirsty yourself, Edward. If you'd like to join them…"

"No, thank you. I'm saving my appetite."

At that, Emmett flashes a wide grin, "Did you get one?"

I beam back at him, "Yes."

Jasper leans forward in surprise. I expect him to speak, but the next words come from Carlisle.

"I'm not sure I know what the two of you are talking about."

"Edward went to the O. P. B. M. to get a human. To help with the boredom of having everything he could ever want," Emmett explains, and then to me, "So where is it?"

"She's somewhere," I say vaguely. It does not strike me as wise to share her location, not if I want her to myself. And I have absolutely no intention of sharing.

"The blood mill gave you a human? Willingly?" Carlisle is skeptical.

Shame casts its shadow over me. True, the vampire I had thrown through a wall had lunged at me first. True, he was unjustified in his actions. True, I had attempted to reason with him beforehand. Still, all of these facts do nothing to dilute my feelings.

With all of the recent conflicts within our family, I do not want to disappoint my father.

So I trade one disappointment for another, and lie, "There were some extras."

Carlisle stares at me for a moment.

"Her life would have gone to waste," I add truthfully.

He continues to stare, but nods slowly. If there is one thing Carlisle despises, it is a wasted life.

"Then I am glad you took her," he replies at last, "But promise me you will treat her humanely. No living creature deserves to be tortured."

"I promise, Carlisle."

Just as I consent to his plea, my sisters return.

The minute they join us, I can sense something is wrong. The lines of distress etched clearly on both of their faces leave no room for doubt. I attempt to listen in to their thoughts, to solve the mystery as I once would have with no effort whatsoever, but there is nothing but silence to be heard.

I sigh, feeling totally idiotic. It has been nearly fifteen years since I have picked up on even the slightest intellectual whisper. One would assume I should be used to the deafness by now. I wonder if any of us will ever grow accustomed to the loss of our additional talents.

For the vast majority of my existence as a vampire, I had the ability to hear what others were thinking. Alice could peer into the future. Jasper could manipulate emotions. And we were only three of the many whose traits had amplified themselves into a bonus ability.

However, approximately a decade after the humans were successfully subdued, these gifts began to fade. We don't know why, or how, this happened. During the revolution, there were those of our kind who speculated what type of effect this new order in the world would have on us. The change in temperament was predicted correctly; the loss of ability was not predicted at all. And the question still remains:

How closely are we related to our human counterparts?

"What happened?" Jasper asks when no one else says anything.

"James, Victoria, and Laurent were all destroyed today," Alice whispers, "Their pieces were found fueling a perfect row of triplet fires."

"Oh my goodness," Esme gasps, her hand covering her mouth in alarm.

Jasper's brow furrows, "Did you see them?"

"No," Rosalie responds, "Not personally. But a lot of others did. Tanya said the wood was stacked into the shape of a teepee, and their heads were mounted at the top of the pile."

"Vampires destroy other vampires all the time," Emmett shrugs, "If James had to go, I'm just glad he waited until after Edward kicked his ass."

Esme glares, "Emmett!"

Alice turns to me, "You kicked his ass?"

"In a matter of speaking," I tell her, "He'd been badgering me for a race since the day we came into contact with each other. I warned him he'd lose, but, of course, he wouldn't hear of that."

"When did you race him?" she questions.

"Around ten o'clock this morning."

Alice and Rosalie exchange looks.

"What?" I ask.

"The burnings supposedly happened an hour later," Rosalie replies, enunciating each word precisely.

Everyone else contained in the room turns their attention to me as well. Their gawking eyes sting unbearably. How could they believe I would actually…?

"I may not have cared for James, or his coven, but I would _never_ destroy them without reasonable motivation," I say, words stilted.

"We know that, Edward," Carlisle assures me.

I glance around at each pair of eyes, still unwaveringly focused on me, before I speak.

"Somehow, I don't believe you do."

I stand, "If you'll excuse me, it is going to be dark soon and I have dinner waiting for me."

I leave the instant my farewell is finished; emotional anguish weighing heavily on my shoulders. Mere hours earlier, I realized how far the human race has fallen. How far had we fallen in return?

Would I ever know the answer?

Did I want to know it?

A/N: Thank you for the reviews last chapter guys! They were awesome! Next chapter we will return to Bella. Sorry I didn't get this posted until late. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Bella**

The wilderness is a bewildering and frightening place to someone who has never stepped foot outside before. It would be frightening and bewildering anyway, even without the knowledge that a vampire is planning to suck me dry after dark. With that knowledge, my panic has spiked to a whole other level.

I cannot stop running.

Every collision between my feet and the untamed earth stings like shards of glass being thrust into the soles. My chest burns with the prolonged intensity of my breathing. My legs plead for a break from the strain, weakening beneath me. My heart thrashes so loudly in my head the angry beats drown out everything else.

But all I can think about is the vampire, Edward Cullen.

I can still feel his chilly grip on my arm. The memory of being tugged against him, of being held prisoner in _his_ arms, almost causes me to lose my balance. One of the fisted hands propelling me forward at my sides flies to my throat, where the path he'd traced with his nose tingles. The bottom of my chin itches from where his fingers had forced it upward; from where the strands of his hair brushed past. I know the exact place his freezing lips pressed on to my skin from the blistering burn they left behind.

I'm no idiot. I understand he only did those things to capture my scent. Growing up the way I did, I've seen guards invade personal space to get an appetizer many times.

Or try to get an appetizer. Everything in the mill is sprayed with a special concoction created to mask the overpowering odor of blood that comes along with our presence. That way, the vampires working there don't go crazy with blood lust. Or so I've been told. As a human, I can't smell anything.

Nevertheless, no one has ever touched _me _that way. And as petrifying as his closeness was, my pending death wasn't the only thing that had me trembling while I was involuntarily settled against him.

An extremely loud buzzing whizzes by my ear.

I shriek and take off in another direction. The trees are thick and plentiful, bigger than I ever imagined. I dodge them along with various other plants on my jagged course to nowhere.

I am so preoccupied with avoiding a head on collision with the mighty trunks, I don't pay enough attention to what is going on beneath me. Icy water splashes up my legs as my feet are submerged in a murky, brown pool.

"Agh!" I exclaim while I hurry out of its depths.

The muck at the bottom pulls heavily on my exhausted legs. I am forced to free myself by crawling on to the bank, using my arms to heave the lower half of me out.

Once I am successful, I flip over to my back to assess the damage of my plunge. My legs glisten blackly with grunge. The evidence of mess is splattered all the way up to my thighs. The grimy yellow-brown is not very forgiving on the white clothing I wear, and the stains will be long lasting.

_The stains will outlive me, _I think with a morbid smirk.

I turn around then and dip my hands into the water. All of the physical exertion has left me overheated and sweaty. I wipe the liquid I was able to gather in my cupped palms over my face. The droplets may be dirty, but they are reminiscent of heaven.

Unable to remain upright any longer, I allow myself to recline back into the mercifully soft grass. I rake my fingers through the tangled green blades, marveling at them. In all my life, I didn't think I would ever see grass. There is a break from the trees here, I discover; a clearing where I am able to view the sky.

When Edward had taken his arms out from under me too quickly and I fell, the beauty of the sky had overwhelmed me to such a degree I momentarily forgot everything going on around me. The clouds were absorbing in the most wondrous way. The ever reaching, boundless expanse of them too much for any one person to behold.

I wish Angela could see this...

The quick, easy death I'd wanted may have been stolen from me, but the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks makes it almost worth it.

Maybe I would have a better chance of surviving if I stayed right here. If my breathing was slow, and my heart was quieted, maybe Edward wouldn't hear me.

Maybe…

Maybe……

A/N: I'm glad the loss of extra abilities in the vampires went over so well. I enjoyed reading your guesses as to why they faded away. The positive feedback has been amazing! Thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

**Edward**

The last dull reminisce of light is still lingering in the sky when I reach the edge of the woods. I am thankful for the time to collect myself. Agitation from the unspoken accusations of my family is still governing my movements, and this is not an experience I wish to rush.

I take several deep, cleansing breaths. I listen to the sounds of the wildlife all around me and bond with them.

_Rely on your senses, focus on your target._

Until now, there have been various questions floating around within the confines of my mind concerning the drive of the hunt. Is neglect weakening it? Is it lost to us, like our abilities?

But night arrives and I take off into the dark like a bullet from a gun. All uncertainties vanish as if there was never a time they tormented me; never a doubt for them to settle in to begin with.

I relish in the obstacles of my surroundings; weaving, ducking, and leaping with eager skill.

Leaves rustle softly from above, alerting me to a nearing gust of wind. I pause into a crouch. The light pressure hitting my face is something not to be missed. The scent of the human, my prey, is unmistakable.

I continue onward more carefully than before. She, however, was not very cautious and left her essence on everything in her path. Her mark is especially evident on the moss-carpeted trees, which, it seems, she touched quite often. Perhaps their soft texture is appealing to her; refreshing to her equally delicate skin.

As I trace her path, I notice something a bit off. Her scent is growing stronger at an alarmingly accelerated speed. Is she, I wonder, progressing toward me? Has she become so lost in the tangles of nature that she is not aware of her backtracking?

The image of the human sprinting straight to me in the blood mill fills my thoughts.

I pause again. Waiting for any difference in the air…

Nothing. There is no change whatsoever.

I can feel the inner puzzlement reflected on my face. If she was moving toward me, her smell would have increased in potency when I stopped. If she was moving away from me, her smell would have decreased. However, neither seems to be the case.

Mystery is the new added motive compelling my quest. The only option remaining is that the human is not moving at all. I forge ahead, contemplating the twisted logic behind such a decision. True, there is no doubt I will find her in any case. True, she may be well aware of that fact given her background. But to remain in one place strikes me as…almost…suicidal.

Or if not that, then bizarrely daring and insanely overconfident. And both descriptions do not match the quivering girl I brought here in the least.

The only exception I can think of is how she behaved toward the other vampire intent on snapping her neck at O. P. B. M. Her hopeless determination and luckless triumph…

I am cruelly close to her by this point. My throat is being slowly roasted by the flow of unneeded oxygen. I come to a small pond, scaling a tree growing alongside the water in order to cross without ruining my clothes. It is on one of the longest branches, reaching out toward the meadow on the opposite side, that I spot her.

The human is, indeed, still. Or as still as a human can be.

Her heart beats a steady rhythm, her breathing is slow, and the eyes I've known to be wide and frantic, are peacefully concealed beneath their lids. She is lying on her back, arms and legs extended awkwardly away from her. It is obvious it was not her intention to fall asleep.

I stare at the dried grime on her legs, imagining the exhaustion that must have spurred her into unconsciousness. The lack of trees allows the glow of the moon to cast down on her, highlighting the deep hue of the hair sprawled out from under her head; illuminating the contrasting radiance of her complexion.

The need to be closer to such raw beauty is overwhelming. I drop from the branch, landing soundlessly on the balls of my feet. Moving closer, I kneel at her side.

The burn of my thirst is far worse, reminding me how easy it would be to drain the human now. Ease is not what I desire, though, ease is not what I sought her out for. And to kill any creature in such a defenseless position would be pathetically low, even for a vampire.

I could wake her, I suppose. Wake her and tell her to run. I am sure I would not have to give the order twice. But even then, there would hardly be a chase. Who am I to shatter the girl's brief moment of tranquility? It's not as though there won't be other nights. Wasn't I just thinking of how I wanted to savor this experience?

It takes honest willpower to retreat from her.

My original destination upon backing away is to go home, but what if someone else stumbles upon her while I'm away? I have heard of those who like to prowl the woods at night. I have even considered joining them from time to time. What a treat my human would be….

They would not spare her.

I sigh, resigning myself to necessary guard duty.

"Get some rest, human," I advise, folding myself in the grass, "You'll need it."


	11. Chapter 11

**Bella**

The next thing I know, I am burning up.

My eyes open to a light so bright they automatically snap closed again. I shift position, feeling stiff and groggy all over. And then the tickling leaflets sprouting from the ground bring everything back in a dizzying rush.

I peel the lids of my eyes back with renewed determination, squinting into the sky. The clouds I remember from yesterday are nowhere to be seen. Clear blue takes the place of the gray with the sun on center stage. Lying directly in its' rays, it's no wonder I'm so hot. I sit up for a better view.

The _sun_. I'm sitting in the _sunlight_. Human number one hundred forty nine is sitting in the _sunlight_. Even as it's happening, I can't believe it. My throat tightens with a wave of emotion.

But I wasn't supposed to see this day, I realize. I think back to Edward's words, his promise to return for me last night, and a sickening vibe rolls through my gut. Only I could pass out while expecting a killer. To even imagine what could have been going on around me during the time I was less than conscious is violently frightening.

Paranoia is a companion to my fear. I wouldn't guess the vampire changed his mind about searching for the 'entertainment' he demolished a wall over, and that means there's a more than good chance he was here last night.

I look nervously about me; searching for the places he could have been-

Or the place he _is_!

I barely catch sight of his silent form resting in the shadows, but that is enough to get me back on my aching legs and high tailing it in the opposite direction. When I reach the farthest end of the clearing, just before I reenter the maze of trees, I glance stupidly over my shoulder. There is no doubt he will be there, not an inch away, teeth bared, ready to murder me.

But he's not.

The surprise makes me hesitate more than anything else. I turn around slowly and scan the clearing for him. Maybe he was never there to begin with. Fear can mess with your mind, I know for a fact.

But he is still there.

Edward Cullen is seated, cross-legged, across the meadow. The shady spots around the edges of the clearing conceal him, or else I'm sure I would have noticed him sooner. It is hard to tell from this distance, but I think he is watching me. He has two objects with him, one balanced on each knee. I scrutinize them curiously…

A…water bottle? And a…orange?

What the-

"They're breakfast," Edward says explanatorily, "Come sit down."

I stare, awestruck.

"I have had hours of opportunity to kill you, and you're still breathing, aren't you?"

He removes the bottle from its perch, placing it carefully on the ground out in front of him.

"Sit," he repeats.

My body responds before I do, gravitating with great reluctance toward the vampire.

My mouth is gritty, dry, and sour from the night outside. The fresh water is something I want more than I originally thought. Besides, I have no hope of resisting him. If he wants me to sit down and have breakfast, one way or another, I'm going to sit down and have breakfast. So I might as well be cooperative.

I lower myself a little ways away from the water bottle. The more distance I can put between us the better.

I keep my eyes focused on my lap once I am seated, only glimpsing up at him when I reach for the water. I'm not sure this isn't some kind of trick.

His dark eyes examine my extended hands with a peculiar expression. I check to see what is so preoccupying about them, and notice they are shaking. That should come as no surprise to something like him, though. The visibility of the veins under my skin must be distracting him.

I grab the bottle quicker after that thought.

It's quiet while I experiment with the liquid, distrusting as I am. But after one tentative sip I'm convinced the water is in fact water, and gulp in earnest.

"I thought you would be thirsty," Edward vocalizes suddenly.

I stop gulping.

"It probably seems…strange that I would bring you sustenance when I am planning on murdering you. It is strange, but I gave my father my word that I would not torture you, and dehydration is a form of torture," he sets the orange in the grass, smiling a little.

"As is starvation," he adds.

I trade the bottle for the orange. He watches my hands quiver again.

"I stole the water and the fruit from the storerooms at the O. P. B. M. this morning. It's difficult to come across anywhere else, since we don't have a personal use for it."

_Why are you telling me this? _I ask silently, _what do I care where you got it from?_

I turn my attention to peeling the orange.

"Anyway," he continues, "At least you'll have energy for tonight."

_What?_

I peel the orange more intently and try to ignore him.

"When the sun goes down, I'm coming after you again," I hear him say, though I do not want to, "I would appreciate it if you would attempt to stay awake this time, but don't assume sleep will save you. I will take your life regardless."

I narrowly avoid choking.

Edward stands, staring down at me.

A breeze blows through, ruffling my hair. The vampire draws in an impressive whiff and releases it with a sigh.

"Enjoy your breakfast, human," he says.

And, with another gust of wind, Edward Cullen disappears.

A/N: Thanks once again for the support guys! I'll be honest, this chapter isn't even as long as _I _hoped it would be. It is a little longer than the previous one, though. I'll definitely work on the length, if you all are willing to devote more of your free time to reading this story. That's a compliment in and of itself!


	12. Chapter 12

**Bella**

Why did he have to tell me he was coming in advance? This day could have been a day of exploration and discovery, and now I won't be able to enjoy any of it. Every few minutes I'll be checking the sky above, trying to calculate how much time I have left. So much for not torturing me.

I savor the rest of the orange. They were never my favorite, but something about this being my _last _orange makes it delicious.

Dread claws at me when I think of leaving the clearing. I'm afraid that once I'm weaving through the disorienting trees, I won't be able to find this place again. Of course I feel safest in an open area that is anything but safe. Of course I want to stay where the vampire has already been; somewhere he's had plenty of time to grow familiar with.

The dirt that has dried on my legs is a good excuse to linger a little longer. I stretch the partially brown appendages out and pour some of my leftover water on them. It's foolish to waste the liquid, I know, I should savor it to drink throughout the day. But the terrible state of my hygiene is currently more pressing than my momentarily quenched thirst.

Once my calves have returned to a semi-natural color, I collect the pieces of orange rind from where I'd dropped them on the ground. Their brightness stands out well against the green of the forest. They could make useful markers, and, if nothing else, reassure me I'm not going in circles.

I take the over-halfway-empty water bottle along too, knowing I'm bound to get thirsty eventually.

And, with both hands full, I trudge nervously into the obscure.

I don't like the woods at night. Not only does the darkness make me almost completely blind, but everything living here seems determined to be as loud as possible. The endless noise is somehow scarier than silence. If there are any signs of the vampire, I am guaranteed to miss them.

The final shred of the orange skin is still clutched in my fingers. There is a weird sense of security that comes along with keeping it. As if as long as I have it, I will be safe. Breakfast scraps and safety have nothing to do with one another, but I find comfort in the nonexistent connection.

Just like I knew I would, I regret using my water earlier. My mouth is dry and now there's nothing I can do about it. I left the empty plastic bottle behind sometime ago, hoping to relieve the urge to drink by ridding myself of all reminders.

So far it isn't working.

The wind blows through then. I walk faster, wishing I could run without the darkness limiting me. Where is the moon? Why is there so much black?

"Human…"

The word is just a breath carried along with the breeze, so soft my mind immediately dismisses it as a figment of my imagination. But I know better than to dismiss anything and throw my arms out in front of me as I sprint ahead.

_Why are you running? _I wonder at myself, _it's no use._

I don't hear anything else as I brush past unseen wildlife. And, even though stopping is the last thing I want to do, I soon have to.

I latch on to one of the many tree trunks in my path and wrap myself around it. The side of my face presses against its rough surface while I try to catch my breath. The dark remains thick and heavy; I find it less irritating to close my eyes than to strain them against the impossible and still not make out anything.

Once sight is out of the picture, I finally notice how quiet it is. The constant sounds of nightlife that had been bothering before have given way to complete silence. It's not just quiet. It's eerily quiet. And I was dead wrong about the noises being more frightening than this.

Only the presence of something as petrifying as a vampire could cause such an unnatural reaction.

My pounding heart leaps into my throat. I'm suddenly positive what I heard before wasn't the wind.

I am suddenly positive I am not alone.

His gentle voice comes from somewhere behind me, "Tired of running already?"

I hold tighter to the tree but otherwise stay still. Air pulls in and out of me in shaky spurts.

"I hoped you would be more difficult to find," Edward says, closer now, "But you've definitely made the pursuit memorable."

A second later, I feel his freezing hands come into contact with my balled up fists. I snap them away instantly, but he curls his fingers around one of my wrists to keep the right hand from escaping.

My eyes fly open. I can vaguely see him standing slightly to the side of the tree. The vampire carefully unrolls my fist with his other hand. He takes the piece of orange rind from where it rests in my palm and holds it out for us both to examine.

"I've never had a victim leave a trail behind for me to follow. Although, you're the first I've warned beforehand. Prior to the revolution, humans were unsuspecting as a rule."

Edward drops my wrist. I cross both arms over my chest, cursing myself mentally for making things even _easier _for my murderer. But the anger doesn't last long. It is actually kind of a relief to have him here; to have the waiting and the worrying behind me.

The vampire lowers himself down into a crouch with deliberate slowness. He sets the orange peel on the ground exaggerating every movement. I can feel his eyes on mine the entire time.

Then again, the waiting and the worrying may be just beginning.

I automatically take a few steps back-

And then I'm pinned against something- another tree trunk I hadn't even realized was behind me- and Edward Cullen is less than two inches from my face.

I scream in shock.

He's gripping me by the tops of my arms, his too close face fiercely wild. He ducks into my neck.

"I can smell the adrenaline rushing through you," he says, "It's marvelous."

_This is it, _I think as the vampire scopes my neck for a second time.

But then something else pops into my head. A totally unexpected, unwanted epiphany:

_I don't want to die like this._

I know that this death is far better than any fate I would have met at the blood mill, except maybe having my neck snapped. But to be given a taste of the world beyond the O. P. B. M. and have it taken away so quickly, doesn't seem fair.

Involuntary sobs accompany the spasms of terror shaking my body. Unable to wipe the tiny droplets, tears stream unstoppably down my cheeks. One of them trickles from me and lands on the vampire.

The moment it comes in contact with him, Edward's head jerks up to stare at me again. His wild eyes follow the paths of wetness running from my eyes to my chin, and, much to my astonishment, soften as they do. The savageness in his black gaze is all but totally subdued.

The abrupt change tranquilizes me. I have spent everyday of my life around vampires, and not once have I seen them show any sign of compassion. I wasn't sure they even had the ability to feel for others.

I am filled with confusion as Edward hesitantly frees one of his hands. I watch his mesmerized expression in bewilderment, and something strange passes between us. I've already discovered that it is impossible for me to hate Edward Cullen, but, even as I see him reaching toward me out of the corner of my eye, I feel no fear. For an instant, I trust him. For an instant, I trust a vampire.

When his fingertips touch the damp skin of my face, the spell is broken. I flinch away instinctively.

"It has been a very long time since I have seen tears," Edward says in a surprisingly shaken voice.

His arms relax at his sides and he walks away from me. I remain where I am, keeping my eyes on his back. As the minutes tick by, I become dully aware of the fact that I am tired. Is it possible that I will live to see _another _day?

The vampire turns to face me again.

"What's your name, human?" he asks.

I do not answer.


	13. Chapter 13

**Edward**

Dawn sweeps in with such swiftness it practically startles me. It seems as though the girl fell asleep only moments ago. She is curled into herself; her knees pressed snugly against her chest, her arms coiled around them. My presence made it difficult for her to rest. Her back was to me when she at last succumbed, but I relocated in favor of a frontal view.

I could tell she was waiting for me to leave. I hoped she might ask why I wasn't leaving. Unfortunately, her refusal to answer questions is a direct reflection of her refusal to ask them. I wondered briefly, as she was slipping away, why she is so unresponsive. But the reason stands out like black against white and I felt completely idiotic for even questioning it.

I am the monster that will take away her life. Of course she won't speak.

That was but one of the thousands of things I thought about tonight. Not the least of which was seeing her fear, her pain, her tears…

Had she not have cried, I would have killed her. I was overly ready to give in to my thirst. The anticipation, the setting, the chase, and the screams; all of it was perfection. I had gotten the challenge I had sought her out for. Perhaps not the exact way I had visualized it, but the differences only made the experience more distinct.

However, when she cried and a piece of her horror leaked from her on to me, I could not finish the vision. She had indeed made humans exist for me again. The detachment of drinking their blood from lifeless containers, the illusion it presented that the blood held no value, was demolished entirely. But, in someway I have spent the late hours attempting to understand, when she cried she became a person.

As shameful as it is to admit, I have forgotten that fact. Humans have been degraded to a point where it is hard to imagine them with personalities. Beings with true thoughts, dreams, and opinions. Equipped with the ability to show more emotion than we vampires are, because they can cry.

I travel to the O. P. B. M. to steal something for the girl to eat from the storerooms, as I did twenty four hours earlier. I wasn't expecting to make the trip a second time and I ponder how long I can continue taking the food before I am discovered.

_How long am I planning on being responsible for the human?_

It is when I bring the food back to her that I make the decision to go home for my own personal necessities. I run into Emmett and Rosalie while I'm there. They ask about my human.

I tell them she is dead.

A/N: So I realize how short this chapter is, but I wanted to keep it very internal. Thanks once again for the feedback! I can't believe I've almost reached 50 reviews!


	14. Chapter 14

**Bella**

I wake up to the grass tickling me for the seventh day in a row.

_Day seven._

It is hard to comprehend being out of the mill at all, let alone being outside for a week. But when I shift position from the tight ball I fell asleep in, the loud, painful popping of my back assures me I did not imagine spending the last six nights on the ground. I wouldn't trade this limited freedom for anything. I have a new found appreciation for the squeaky mattress I used to rest on, though.

A limited freedom. That is the best way I can think of to describe what has become a normal day. Edward and I have formed an odd sort of routine; solid, but fragile and transparent, like glass.

He hasn't tried to kill me since that night when that strange something passed between us. He still tracks me down after every sun set, but he hasn't laid a hand on me. I would like to say it's a relief; really it only puts me more on edge. I'm constantly trying to figure out why I'm still alive. Did he decide he doesn't like the way I smell? Is my blood not appealing to him? And if that's it, then why is he still hanging around with his stolen supply of water bottles and fruit?

Speaking of water bottles and fruit....

I stand up, stretching while I search for the breakfast bearing vampire. I don't have to search long. Last night's sleeping selection was pretty cramped. Not at all like the clearing I dozed off in once upon a time. I was right to be afraid I wouldn't find it again after I left.

My steps are almost comfortable as I walk towards him and take a seat across from where he waits.

I take the fresh drink and pull in a mouthful. The cold swishes through my teeth, thankfully dispelling the bitter morning taste.

Only once that is taken care of do I bring myself to look at Edward. I'm starting to envy his fresh, clean clothes. What I wear is in such grotesque shape I can't even bear to think about how dirty it is. Or how dirty _I _am for that matter. Another sacrifice made for my limited freedom.

I glare down at the grass.

"What has you so upset this morning?" Edward asks.

He always gives me time to answer his questions, though I never do.

"Is your back bothering you?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry about that. I know sleeping on the ground can't be very comfortable."

I reach for the fruit of the day, a banana, without acknowledging his apologetic tone.

"Emmett and Rosalie are leaving to go on another vacation tomorrow. I can't say I'm surprised. Rosalie likes a change of scenery, and things are becoming unbearably tense at home," the vampire frowns.

I perk up in interest. My favorite part of our one-sided conversations is hearing about his life. Every word out of his mouth is something new to me.

"They were gone for two months the last time they went to Mexico. About thirty years ago, I think. Emmett had a lot of complaints to share when they returned, so we'll see how long Rosalie can hold him there this time."

I try to imagine Mexico, wishing he'd say more about it. What kind of complaints did Emmett have? What was Mexico like? I have questions, but I keep them contained, nibbling thoughtfully on my banana.

"Whoever destroyed James and his coven still hasn't been found. I doubt they'll ever be found. What little law system we do have is unstable at best. There is an endless debate over what should and shouldn't be legal, or if anything should be considered illegal at all. The mess of it worries Carlisle," Edward mutters speaking more to himself, appearing farther away than before.

And then his expression becomes less distant.

"I use you as a personal sounding board," he chuckles, "Doesn't it ever bore you, listening to me prattle on and on?"

The pause lasts a few seconds. I swallow the last bit of banana and wash it down.

"There are times I wonder if you're truly listening at all. But I can see when something I've said intrigues you, even though you try to hide it. You eat slightly slower, and you look up more often…"

My stomach flips uncomfortably. The idea of being watched so closely is more than a little unsettling.

"What was it about Emmett and Rosalie that sparked your interest?"

I monitor every part of my body, determined not to make any unconscious gestures.

Edward sighs, "Your silence is extremely frustrating, human. Frustrating me isn't a particularly wise thing to do, you know. I'm all you have."

He rises. Breakfast is over.

"I'll meet you for lunch in a few hours," is his usual temporary goodbye.

And he leaves me to think about what he said.

Four days ago he told me he happened upon a feeding schedule while he was at the mill, and realized what he was giving me wasn't nearly enough to last all day. So in addition to breakfast, there is now lunch and dinner.

Lunch is more of a drop off than anything else. He finds me, sets the food nearby, and takes off. It's a relief to eat without his eyes watching my every move. The meal itself is more filling, too. The vampire is beginning to deviate somewhat from the fruit when it comes to lunch and dinner. It's been a welcome change.

The setting of dinner is much more like breakfast, but in the dark. He brings the food along with him when he seeks me out at night. Sometimes he speaks, sometimes he doesn't. I guess it depends on if he has anything to say.

And after I eat, I curl up and try to sleep with his ruby gaze burning relentless holes in my back.

But right now, as I walk aimlessly away from my most recent bed, all I can focus on are the words.

"I'm all you have," he'd said.

And I hate knowing that it's the truth. I hate the power he has over me. It's the same power the vampires had over all of us at the O. P. B. M, but concentrated on one specific vampire instead of a group of disgusting zombies.

_What an improvement, _I think sarcastically.

But I know it is an improvement. It is far and away from the Draining Room; far and away from 'Reproduction'.

I shudder from the horrible memories.

At least for right now it is, anyway. Who knows what Edward wants from me. He could be using every spare moment to plan some sick, torturous death trap. The vampire had wanted 'entertainment'….

I continue down the line of disturbing thoughts in my head for a couple of hours, only vaguely taking in my surroundings. It's strange for me to be more absorbed in myself than I am in the woods. They are still so much of a mystery.

Then a change in lighting catches my attention, and I'm brought back to the here and now to see what I thought I'd never see again. A break from the trees where I can see the sky. A murky, brown pool I'd walked right into.

Somehow, I found my way back to the clearing.

A huge grin stretches out over my face. I run through the grass, softer here than anywhere else, unable to stifle my excitement. Breathing turns to panting and I lie back eagerly. I know where I'm staying tonight.

After awhile of rest, it occurs to me I actually have the opportunity to bathe. The pond water has to be better than nothing.

I walk hesitantly over to the edge, forcing myself to look at my clothes. All the sweat and dirt and grime have combined to turn the clean white into a gnarly brown. Grimacing at the sight, I bend to grab the end of the garment and lift it over my head. The underwear the vampires provided us isn't much better made, but was at least protected from the worst of the forest.

I try not to think of the past, staring down at my filthy body. But the flashes are too strong. The horror is too ingrained.

And I'm in The Shower all over again.

_The Shower isn't like the Draining Room or the unnamed room. Its main purpose is actually pretty innocent: to keep us clean._

_It is a place we've all been countless times. One big room, just like all of the places made for us, with showerheads covering the ceiling. We knew what days we were supposed to go, and the vampires would come for us when it was our turn. We'd be given a ten minute warning, during which we were supposed to strip. Most days we'd leave our clothes folded at the ends of our bunks to put back on afterwards, the exception being once every two weeks when we'd be given fresh gowns. _

_The vampires oversaw us, of course, and every now and again there were the truly sick monsters that would harass us or stare quietly in the most sickening of ways. But for the most part, showering was just a regular part of life at the mill. It wasn't something I dreaded, or something we discussed from underneath the cover of our sheets. It just was._

_Until one slip changed everything._

_It was one of the days we were supposed to get fresh clothes to wear. I remember the enthusiasm in the air; the anticipation over what was the highlight of our last two weeks. If it hadn't been for her excitement, she probably wouldn't have fallen. The girl who died that day in The Shower. _

_There were six girls between her and I. Six girls were the difference between life and death. It could have so easily been someone else. It could have so easily been me. _

_But for some reason it was her. The tall girl with the ginger colored hair whose number was too far away from mine for us to have ever met. _

_She was the girl who dropped her soap, and chased hurriedly after it while it slipped continuously out of her grasp. Who slipped herself on the slick, wet shower floor and landed knee-first on one of the drains. _

_I remember the huffing sound she made when she hit. And then I remember the growls._

_One overseer after another plowing in after her. All fighting each other for the blood they could not smell, but they could see and most definitely taste. _

_The girl who was literally torn to shredded, red pieces by the monsters right before our eyes._

_And the monsters who laughed when the game was all over._


	15. Chapter 15

**Edward**

Drawing on past experience, I decided the best route to reaching the human was to develop a connection with her. I assumed it wouldn't be a very difficult task; lulling the girl into a false sense of security. She has no other outlet.

My assumption is being proven wrong on a daily basis. It seems no matter how conversational I am, no matter how often I laugh or smile, no matter how much of my personal life I share with her, or how hard I work to prevent frightening her, I am not making any progress. She has yet to utter a word.

I stick to miscellaneous topics, speaking whatever trivial thought passes through my head. Eventually I'll touch on a subject she feels passionate enough to comment on. Surely it's only a matter of time.

However, these assurances are quickly losing their vigor as the screen of frustration I'm viewing them trough thickens. Whether the girl chooses to talk or not honestly shouldn't make a difference. The curiosity I feel should not be escalating to a need to decipher what goes on behind her inquisitive brown eyes.

Nevertheless, that is what it is fast becoming, and I am powerless to stop the dangerous transition. The human is presenting me with an irresistible challenge; totally unrelated to the challenge I wanted from her, yet insanely appealing to my dull disposition. The lengths I will go to solve her enigmatic behavior are far reaching.

I replay the days' events, following the path to the O. P. B. M. on autopilot. The trip isn't one that requires my focus any longer.

I was surprised to find the human somewhere she had already been when I brought her lunch. She'd returned to the clearing, where she slept that first night. And, even more surprisingly, she made use of the pond. Every inch of her was drenched.

"Swimming?" I had questioned, watching her back as she wrung the wetness from her hair.

She started and immediately stopped what she was doing, but made no move to face me. And, of course, she made no attempt to answer me either.

I follow her scent through the shadows of the late hour, her dinner now held in the bag I clutch with gentle caution. It appears she opted to stay in the same place. Suicidal little thing.

The girl is resting on her knees, tearing a leaf to pieces in her lap. Her posture is expectant, she knows I'm coming. Still, I slow my movements so as not to startle her.

I sit down in the grass with the bag of food and set it in front of me. I wait for her to take notice of me on her own.

It takes awhile, but intuition eventually alerts her to my presence. She peers up from the leaf bits with squinting eyes that pick up little in the dark. Recognition sparks in them as she finally zeroes in. Her hands brush the self-made mess off before she heads over to join me. At least she doesn't hesitate anymore.

I smile when I think she is close enough to see.

"Good evening," I greet.

She gets situated and begins to eat. Nothing out of the ordinary, not that I predicted anything else from my unresponsive human.

I fight the urge to groan, but launch into conversation just the same. I'm beginning to discover talking to myself can be very therapeutic.

An entire monologue and two hours later, the girl is sleeping soundly in her usual confined position. I relish in the sight of her lax features, but frown when it calls to memory the disturbing popping noise from this morning. Her human body cannot withstand the abuse of the forest floor. I hope she fairs better here.

Then, as if hearing me, she rolls unconsciously from her side to her back. A soft sigh leaks from the tiny parting of her lips in relief that spreads over to where I sit. She looks much more comfortable this way, and her peace soothes me.

Until I notice the arm closest to me is being cut off at the elbow; the bulk of her body crushing the rest of it. Bloodless as I am, I have no need to worry over such things. But the girl is another story. She can't stay that way for an extended period of time without cutting off the circulation to her arm.

It is by no means an emergency. A little numbing discomfort in the morning will do nothing to harm her. Still, I am bothered by it.

I stare at the tiny problem until I can see nothing else, can think of nothing else besides the girl and her crushed arm. My body twitches with the irrational desire to do something, _anything_ to fix the damned thing.

And when I can't stand to look at it any longer, I turn away. Putting my back to the ridiculous irritation.

_So ridiculous…Completely and utterly insane…So ridiculous… _I chant to myself.

But the knowledge that the girl is still there, still sleeping on her blasted arm, doesn't escape me. Like a nagging pull yanking at me from behind with relentless force. Pulling and pulling and pulling…

I surrender with a growl, practically stomping my way to the human. In a very business-like fashion I wedge my hand in the space between her back and the earth. Her eyes remain closed, her breathing even. She does not even flinch away as I half expected her to do at my touch.

For some reason, this pleases me.

But I refuse to dwell on the pleasure and use my free hand to pull the arm out from underneath her, as it had been pulling me. I slowly wiggle my hand away from her back, intentionally holding my breath as I inch myself free of the incredible teasing warmth.

I could kill her. I could take her life right now. She would barely have a chance to register what is happening. There would be no hunting involved, but there would also be no tears. No more trips to the blood mill, no more lying to my family, no more frustrating silence, no more ridiculous, nagging pulls.

The idea sounds more appealing by the second.

Then the girl shifts, turning partially to the side with another of her quiet sighs. The hand that was beneath her only moments ago slides outward-

And grasps my retreating fingertips.

I gasp at the sudden movement.

The contact completely obliterates every thought in my mind; leaving it an empty place filled with nothing but the girl. Were someone to ask me the place or the time, or even my own name, I wouldn't know the answer.

I know only _her_.

She is all I see, all I smell, all I-

"Edward!"

I whirl around, severing our connection, to find Tanya and Kate standing at the edge of the clearing with perplexed expressions.

"What on Earth are you doing? Didn't you hear us?" Kate asks with irritation.

I attempt to block my human from view, though I know it is useless.

"I'm afraid I was a bit distracted."

Tanya's eyes dart behind me, "Is that the one you took from the blood mill? Rosalie said you did away with her days ago."

"Yes," I say tersely, "And I don't want her or any of my family to ever know otherwise."

Tanya raises her eyebrows, "Why?"

"She smells delicious," Kate whiffs the air appreciatively.

"That is exactly _why_, to keep her to myself. I don't altogether trust others not to come looking for her. If not my family themselves, then someone they spread the word to."

Tanya nods in understanding, "Word of her did travel fast. A live human is something to be desired."

"Which is the reason that I'm going to have to ask you both to leave and forget what you saw here," I clench my teeth.

Kate narrows her eyes at the unspoken threat, "There are two of us and only one of you-"

"Nonsense, Kate," Tanya interrupts, "Edward is practically one of our own. If he wants us to leave and free our minds of the sleeping girl, we will not fight him."

Kate relaxes, looking ashamed, "My apologies, Edward."

I nod, but do not relax.

"Shall we, Tanya?" Kate pivots towards the woods.

"Go on. I'll catch up in a moment, sister."

Kate smiles, then disappears with curiosity trailing behind her.

It is my turn to raise my brow at Tanya, "Something you wish to say?"

"There is actually," she grins, "A warning, if you will."

I glare at her.

"We travel a lot these days. It's our way of coping with the…predictability, I suppose. And I thought if you're planning on keeping the human around-"

"She dies before sunrise," I hiss.

I know even as I speak that I don't mean the words, but Tanya and Kate cannot know she is out here alive and breathing and full of blood. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have fooled anybody.

Tanya continues as if I had not opened my mouth, "You should know the risk."

She pauses with an entertained sparkle in her eye.

"What. Risk."

"There have been riots not so far from here; breaking out over rumors of vampires who work at the blood mills taking and keeping humans for themselves."

I cannot deny my intrigue, "Keeping them for what purpose?"

"Snacks, pets," she shrugs, "The stories are endless."

"I don't understand the warning."

Her voice raises a bit with emphasis, "Those mill workers were destroyed. Mobs went after them, twenty, thirty vampires tracking each down and tearing them all to shreds one by one.

I will not give away your secret, and I will tell Kate you intend to drain the girl tonight, but, should anyone ever discover what you have hidden here, I want you to be aware of the consequences."

She steps closer to me, though I am hardly aware of her proximity; stunned and trying to imagine the barbaric activity she described. It is a new development, even as we are concerned. To group twenty, or thirty of our kind to destroy _one _of us is madness. There is no fairness in such a fight.

Tanya's face contorts slightly, I assume because she is closer to the human and her mouthwatering blood. But she is determined to get across whatever else she wants to tell me, and forces it back into normalcy before leaning in.

"Dearest Edward," she murmurs softly, seductively, "Be careful."

Her lips caress my cheek lingeringly before she follows after Kate.


	16. Chapter 16

**Edward**

Something is wrong.

I know it in the pit of my unused stomach, in my every frozen cell. The feeling reverberates through me like a wave of forgotten sickness, transforming the clarity of the night into a foreboding blur of paranoia. With Tanya's warning not even twenty four hours old, I have to ask myself if this wrongness is just that: paranoia.

Then I catch the scent coiled around my human's, a cobra strangling and crushing the torturous sweetness, and I can no longer write it off as anything other than the truth.

I tear ruthlessly through everything in my path, like a wrecking ball in the forest. Some part of me is aware that I am making far too much noise, but it is overshadowed with urgency. If my entrance distracts the intruder from the girl for even a moment, it will make a difference.

Deciding height could provide a much needed advantage, I turn my attention to the branches extending into the sky above me. Without stopping I spring toward a particularly sturdy limb. My fingers wrap around the coarse wood as I attempt to heft myself on to the perch.

My shoulder, however, proves too weak and gives way under the stress of my weight.

I curse Emmett and my entire family on my way back to the ground. We are no better than any other group of savage monsters in this world, and because of our pointless rage against each other, the girl will die.

Fortunately, I am not so damaged that I lose myself completely. Managing to land on the balls of my feet, I hurl my body skyward once more. This time I take care to use the arm that was not injured by my brother.

Barely able to feel any sense of achievement at my success, I bound from tree branch to tree branch knowing each leap is taking me closer to her and praying to whatever exists beyond this loathsome reality that I am not too late.

I find purchase on a tree overlooking the familiar meadow at last.

Finally, she is in sight.

She sits seemingly alone, a tiny, helpless ball of quivering life. Her neck is bent so her forehead rests against her pale knees, her hair draped over her like a knotted brown blanket. The protective position bears striking similarity to the way she holds herself when sleeping, I notice, and I feel a pang of guilt for making her so uncomfortable with my presence.

I listen to her frantic breathing and the pounding of her petrified heart in comfort while I locate the intruder.

But I am not fast enough.

With no warning whatsoever, a staggeringly powerful shove knocks me from behind.

My body slams into the earth with a force that vibrates through my stony exterior. I roll on to my back the instant the vulnerable position I'm in registers and stare up at the attacker.

Recognition sparks as soon as I lay eyes on the crouched menace growling down at me.

"I knew you would keep her," the vampire from the O. P. B. M. grates through bared teeth, "You greedy hoarder."

_Hoarder?_

I use my good arm to rise to my feet- but the seething mill worker isn't having any of that.

He catapults himself from the tree, using my body as a landing board and pinning me underneath him. He situates himself so his knees dig into my elbows and one of his hands forces my shoulders into the ground, making indentations in the dirt with the force of his hold.

My painful hiss quickly transforms into a furious roar. A brief surge of panic accompanies the knowledge that my arms have been rendered useless in a matter of effortless seconds.

"Where are the rest of them?!" he demands wildly, gripping me by the throat with his free hand in an attempt to restrain my head as well.

I fight against his grasp, but he only thrusts my head into the dirt with more strength than before. A _successful _attempt…

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, my voice level and calm despite the undeniable bleakness of the situation.

He may have the upper hand, but I'll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

He does not like this response and slices his teeth into my forehead angrily.

I cannot restrain the groan of agony before it escapes my lips. The searing pain makes silence impossible.

"The humans, Cullen," he spits, without doing further damage than the initial breakage, but remaining close enough so that I am aware of the possibility, "I know your coven has a stash somewhere."

It is harder to maintain a level tone of voice, but I manage, "You're wrong."

He lunges his teeth into my forehead again, breaking a piece off between his razors with a deafening crack.

I hate the volume of the anguished noise forced involuntarily out of me.

My opponent, however, relishes in it.

He grins as my body writhes, slamming my shoulders down roughly as they thrash of their own accord.

That is when he discovers the place Emmett had cracked less than an hour prior. The fault line of healing, slightly less than solid rock beneath his capable hands. And the grin turns maniacal.

He releases my neck and places both of his hands on the weakest point of my body. Deliberately, he begins to focus all of his weight on to the area.

The crack is reborn and I am pathetically hissing and thrashing once more.

"Did that refresh your memory?" the question is laced with disturbingly jovial entertainment.

I shake my head back and forth in defiance.

"No?" he pushes against the crack with impossibly more pressure, "How about now?"

The entire attachment begins to throb, the split growing dangerously deeper.

I grind my teeth together, "We aren't keeping any humans. There is only her."

The words are an agonized croak, but they are clear and determined. I can hope for little else at this point.

It is not enough for him, "I don't believe that. Not with your coven's history."

The weight on my injured shoulder becomes even _more _unbearable and he examines my reaction with increasing amusement. Enjoying my every twisted expression, my every futile jerk.

"Did you or did you not feed on the blood of animals for the majority of your existence?"

He increases the pressure on my shoulder yet again, and we can both feel how close it is to entirely detaching, "If you value your arm, you will answer."

To answer feels like surrender, but what other choice have I? It is common knowledge that he wants, after all. It is not a vital secret I am bound to protect.

"I did."

The pressure remains consistent.

"Did you or did you not do this to preserve human life? If you value your arm, you will answer."

"I did."

The amusement mingles with a deep confusion, "Why?"

It is a confusion I have seen before on many a vampires face. Our lifestyle was incomprehensible to almost everyone we came across. Time and time again we would be asked to explain ourselves. And the explanation never changed.

"I don't want to be a monster," I say, the familiar statement rolling off my tongue without hesitation, as it once did long ago.

He trades the consistent pressure for an extremely taxing shove at his target. A strange creaking noise accompanies my unstoppable oath.

"You speak in the present tense," he seethes.

I realize he is right, but answer in defense, "We gave up that lifestyle decades before the revolution. It was hardly the majority of my existence."

My words flow too easily for his liking and he returns to his previous method of consistent pressure.

"We are not human sympathizers," I rasp against the pain.

He stares at me quizzically, watching the effects of his torture play out contentedly, "Then you will let me have the girl."

A fresh flash of rage consumes me. I try with my every ounce of strength to break free, but to no avail.

I make my voice as terrifying as possible under the circumstances, "No."

The pressure increases greatly.

"If you value your arm, you will let me have her."

"No," I say again.

He smiles, "Very well."

And with a grunt of exertion, a horrific _snap _echoes through the air.

First I am aware only that I cannot feel the place where the appendage once rested. A sort of numbness perhaps. An emptiness.

But the agony follows soon after.

And I hear the awful screaming before I realize I am the cause of it.

_If Emmett had known his carelessness would be the death of me, would it have changed the course of events that led me here? On the edge of destruction, preparing to perish for the sake of the human girl, would it have changed anything at all?_

_This morning as I sat watching the girl devour her breakfast, I couldn't erase what Tanya had said from my mind. I was unusually anxious to leave. I wanted so badly to confront Carlisle with this startling information, to know for certain if it was in fact the truth. _

_The human was still working toward finishing her meal when I stood._

"_I'll meet you for lunch in a few hours," I told her, just as I always did._

_She glanced up at me with evident surprise. Her eyes dropped to the remaining strawberries in her lap then met mine once again in puzzlement. _

_She may not have spoken, but I could interpret her movements easily enough._

_I smiled gently for her benefit, "There is a matter I need to discuss with Carlisle. We can talk more at lunch, if you'd like that."_

_Of course I was the only one doing any talking, but I was still hoping to form a bond with the human and including her, I thought, would add a sense of camaraderie to our arrangement. _

_It wasn't as if I wanted to have an emotional attachment to my food; more that I wanted _her _to form an emotional attachment to _me_. After rediscovering the human race as one of differing personalities and opinions made up, not of mindless cattle, but of individuals, I wanted to know her. I wanted her to share herself with me._

_Why I wanted this I wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it was the burning need of curiosity I felt in her presence spurred on by a nonsensical desire to reconnect with the humanity I had lost. Or perhaps I simply longed for human acceptance, and I yearned for the day when she would look me in the eye and see past the blood thirsty monster I am._

"_There is still good in you," her eyes would say, and maybe she would bestow upon me the gift of her willing touch without trembling in fear._

_But whatever the reason, I knew I would continue to endure my impatience with her frustrating silence and give in to the appealing challenge of opening up the human for as long as it took to achieve what I sought from her._

_So, although the human did not return my smile today or provide any signal to tell me she would like to talk during lunch, I took comfort in the knowledge that she did not show any sign of objection to the idea either._

"_Until then," I nodded, and left her to finish eating alone._

_I had only just exited the cover of trees when I began to hear the banging. The clouds overhead suggested thunder, but I knew better. I picked up speed, even more anxious to get home than before._

_Emmett and Rosalie were set to leave on another of their vacations today, so I hadn't expected any trouble. _

_But what was waiting for me in the front yard was undeniable chaos. _

_The evidence of packing was strewn across the lawn, several suitcases lying toppled over and wide open. Various items of clothing, mostly Rosalie's, were torn and wrinkled; some on the ground, others tangled in what remained of Esme's trees. The door of Emmett's jeep was left ajar, still waiting to be loaded up with the disastrous luggage. _

_And then there were my siblings, clawing at one another brutally in the center of it all._

_Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper were standing in the formation of a lopsided circle. They were glaring fiercely at each other, circling around their brothers and sisters the way they would their prey. A low, feral noise emanated from Jasper's chest and was mirrored by two identically animalistic sounds coming from the direction of Emmett and Rosalie._

_The tension erupted suddenly as I looked on in disbelief, and Rosalie lunged at Alice. Jasper reacted immediately, intercepting her before she could touch his mate. Emmett then went after Jasper in turn before he could reach Rosalie. At which time Alice went after Emmett and the process repeated itself. _

Thunder indeed, _I thought, listening to every deafening collision in a daze._

_I had walked in on Emmett and Jasper fighting many times, Alice and Rosalie on occasion as well, but this was a different breed of combat. It transcended rivalry. _

_Abruptly, I had no doubt that what Tanya had told me was true. I didn't need to ask Carlisle. The proof was right in front of me. Barbaric madness showcased in my supposedly civilized family themselves. Who would have thought…_

_I turned my head away from the spectacle, not wanting to watch any longer, and found Carlisle and Esme. They were standing on the porch, looking every bit as shocked as I was at what was happening in their own front yard. _

_They seemed to feel my stare and we exchanged glances. _

_Then the shock wore off and we set out to break up the fight. _

_The circle had returned to a ring of tension, leading me to hope it may be easier to reach them when they weren't actively attacking each other. But they did not acknowledge our presence, much less our words. They were in another world where speech and rational thought ceased to matter. _

_Protect and conquer, that was what they understood. It sickened me to see them reduced to little more than beasts. Prisoners to their instincts. Real monsters. _

_And if it weren't for the human in the woods, I would most likely be standing right beside them. A sadistic creature encased in the shell of a man. _

_No one wants to be a monster._

_That was when Esme reached out and placed her hand on Emmett's arm._

_It was the most innocent, caring gesture. She only wanted his attention. But Emmett was too far gone to identify the contact as anything other than an attack. He thrust his arm back at her with all of his might, and the blow sent the unprepared Esme flying into a bush she herself has planted with her family in heart and mind._

_The bush was completely demolished upon impact, her stone body far too much for the delicate plant to withstand. _

_I pictured Carlisle springing at Emmett, enraged at what his son had done to his wife. But of course Carlisle wouldn't do that. Instead, he hurried over to her, lifting her from the leaves and offering comfort in hushed sentiments and a gentle caress._

_Carlisle was reasonable._

_I was not._

_I _was _enraged. And I sprung at Emmett ruthlessly._

…_And that was how I wound up with my arm twisted behind my back trying to escape Emmett's iron hold. Sadly, it took the sound of my shoulder cracking before either of us came back to ourselves._

_After the ordeal had at last come to an end and my family had returned to their sanity, all I wanted was to see the human. I didn't bother to make up an excuse to leave or stop to steal the girl's dinner (it was dark and lunch had long been a lost cause). It only mattered that I saw her._

_Then more than ever I needed to earn her acceptance. I needed to know I was not only a barbarian born from madness. That there was something redeeming left inside of me. Some miniscule speck of light in the dark that would prove I was closer to a man than an animal. _

_When I caught the scent of the mill worker so terribly intertwined with the humans', I knew I had to save her. She was redemption and light and rationality, and I needed her. It would be absurd to sacrifice one's self for the life of a human. But to sacrifice one's self for redemption and light and rationality was nothing short of infallible logic._

"Are you really willing to die for one of the blood filled?" the vampire from the O. P. B. M. sneers disgustedly, as if directly following my train of thought.

The pain of losing a limb is too great for me to respond.

He laughs in the face of my defeat, "You're a pathetic excuse for a vampire."

He leans over me, thoroughly immersed in his mirth, both hands on a shoulder I can no longer feel. I battle my way through the cloud of agony to search for any possibility of saving myself and the girl –as soon as I am out of the way I am sure he will kill her- and it dawns on me that my head is not currently being restrained.

Pathetic vampire or not, I am still a vampire. A vampire equipped with speed, strength, and the ability to bite through steel. Or, in this case, vampire flesh.

I aim for the face, digging in as deeply as possible.

The mill worker hisses in surprise, automatically jerking backward, and thus losing what I have clenched between my teeth.

But, most importantly, he also loses his hold on my body.

I take advantage of his momentarily loss of balance, quickly ridding myself entirely of his grasp.

Now I am free to run.

I race to the opposite side of the clearing, my detached arm waving behind me uselessly; a dead weight held on by the sleeve of my shirt. I waste a split second to tear away the nuisance, tossing it someplace it won't get in the way.

And the mill worker advances toward me…

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the hold up. Real life and all... But at least this chapter's a good length. It definitely wasn't the easiest thing to write, for obvious reasons. But it is important to the plot, so... Please stick with me.


	17. Chapter 17

**Bella**

_Breathe, just breathe…Inhale…Exhale…Inhale…_

I keep my head down and my eyes shut as I try to concentrate on the simple process. Every so often I slip, my calming breaths turning to loud desperate pants. But I can't stop them from escaping anymore than I can stop the vampires fighting just a few feet away from me.

I decided I didn't want to see anymore shortly after the vampire from the mill pinned Edward to the ground, and I haven't peeked since. However, just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't hear, and the noises are driving me crazy.

"Did you or did you not feed on the blood of animals for the majority of your existence? If you value your arm, you will answer."

"I did."

"Did you or did you not do this to preserve human life? If you value your arm, you will answer."

"I did."

The words should mean something to me, I know they should mean something to me, but I can't make sense of them. The way Cold Breath is treating Edward hits home too closely. Each sound of anguish from Edward's lips takes me back to another time. Another place.

Twelve years old, thin walls, girls disappearing and never coming back, the torture we heard but could not see…

And then I'm panting again.

_Breathe, Bella. Breathe._

"We are not human sympathizers!" Edward's voice carries, horrifically agonized.

I have never heard a vampire sound so pained, and I have to cross my arms over my head to stay in the safety of the dark.

"Then you will let me have the girl," the mill worker replies, sounding perfectly at ease and even as if he's enjoying the situation.

My hatred for the undead flares. Not only are they sick and cruel and torturous to us, but they have no problem being sick and torturous and cruel to each other, either. Another person's suffering is just a game to them. A fun little game.

That's when I realize I'm the girl he's talking about. A spasm of nausea accompanies the thought of this creature 'having' me. Even if he did nothing but snap my neck as he was going to before, it would still be too long in his company. I almost get sick at the memory of his hand on my throat.

Even still, I know Edward will surrender me. I'm not worth any more than the blood in my veins, and that isn't much. Certainly not worth all the trouble the mill worker is dishing out. All the pain…

"No."

The word rings out, much to my surprise, with strong conviction and menace. Was I just imagining the agony I'd heard before?

My head rises against my will, eyes honing in on the vampires.

"If you value your arm, you will let me have her."

"No."

"Very well."

I know I should look away, but I'm too horrorstruck, too shocked.

And then-

_Snap._

Edward screams, taking me back to my twelfth year of life yet again. But somehow his screams are worse. Somehow they equal every cry I've ever heard or bared witness to at the hands of the vampires and add to them.

I tuck my head and shut my eyes. I don't want to see Edward die. I don't want him to die. He shouldn't die. Especially not at the hands of his own kind. Especially not for me.

For _me_!

How easy would it have been for him to let the mill worker have me? If he would have just given me away, he would still have his arm. All he would have had to do is pass me over to Cold Breath, and this could be over.

But he isn't.

And that means…

"Are you really willing to die for one of the blood filled?"

Tears prick my eyes.

Because he is. He _is _willing to die for one of us.

The vampire, Edward Cullen, is willing to die for me.

The tears spill over and my shoulders begin to shake. No one has ever done _anything _for me in my entire life. Not even my friends, not even Angela. If someone got their clothes dirty or dropped their food on the ground at the blood mill, no one ever offered them theirs. Death was always so close, we couldn't afford to look after others.

And now here is this vampire ready to sacrifice himself for no other reason than to keep me.

Me, insignificant unimportant one-of-three-hundred, me. I am worth dying for.

I sob, overwhelmed with emotion, until something hard hits my foot.

My head jerks up. Startled, I scan the barely visible grass for whatever it was…

And bite my lip to hold back a shriek.

An entire arm, fingertips to shoulder, lies not an inch from my toes with no body attached to it. I stare with wide eyes at the shirt sleeve, and identify it as Edward's.

I search out the vampires again to find him on his feet, having gotten loose from Cold Breath sometime during my distraction. It's a great relief to see him standing, but the mill worker is heading straight for him, and I duck into the safety of darkness fearfully.

They don't speak anymore, but the _boom _of every collision and the _snap _of every break say all I need to know. Occasionally I make out an oath or hiss, but nothing very telling. I flinch at every sound anyway as the _boom_s and the _snap_s become disturbingly more frequent.

Until, after what seems like hours later, they cease.

The silence is so deafening at first I wonder if they were both killed, but then it is broken by what sounds like rocks clattering against each other.

Slowly, with extreme hesitation and great dread, I peek out from behind my knees.

One lone vampire stands with his back to me. I gaze at his profile, his clothes, his bronze hair, his singular arm, and a humongous sigh of relief whooshes out of me.

It's Edward.

Oh, yes, it's Edward.

I grin insanely, almost springing to my feet and sprinting forward to embrace him.

_Hugging a vampire? _I just barely contain my inappropriate laughter, _Nice plan, Bella._

I watch intently as he dumps the load of pale rocks, held awkwardly in his remaining limb, into a pile on the ground. He goes around gathering them and dumping them until I don't see anymore fragments, and then he disappears into the trees.

Bewildered, I wonder why he left. But before I can ponder any further than that, he returns. Carrying a head. The head of Cold Breath. Without a body.

I have to bite down on my lip again to prevent any of the horror I feel from vocalizing itself, and then add my hands to the equation when I realize the pale rocks…are not pale rocks.

Edward places the head on top of the pile before reaching into the pocket of his pants and extracting something I can't see from where I sit. His back still turned toward me, I don't know what he's doing. But it doesn't seem to be an easy task to accomplish one handed.

The vampire struggles for several minutes, making the occasional grunt of frustration. Only when a lit match drops from his fingers on to the pile do I figure out what the problem was. The entire stack instantly goes up in flames, as if it was made up of gasoline-soaked paper rather than….pale rocks.

Moments pass as Edward remains motionless in front of the fire. My gaze strays over to his arm, still resting by my toes. I shudder at the sight.

But I think again of all the vampire has done and endured for me, of all he was so willing to sacrifice for me, and a surge of determination enables me to move. I reach out and grab the limb by its' sleeve, pulling it to me as I get up. With trembling hands, I carry the lost appendage and walk to the vampire who would have died to keep me.

He doesn't turn as I approach, which I'm grateful for. It doesn't make any sense with what I've just seen, but I'm still afraid he'll lunge at me and dig his teeth into my neck at any second.

By the time he is close enough to touch, my heart is pounding and I'm dripping with sweat. Everything in me is desperate to back away; to put some distance between the monster and myself.

I square my shoulders, taking a deep breath, and force my fingertips to brush his shirt with the lightest of pressure.

Edward turns to face me in one blindingly fast movement.

Too fast.

I cower into myself against my will, clutching his arm to my chest and spinning around with every intention of running.

But, two steps into my retreat, I stop.

_He would have died for you, _I tell myself, _He would have died._

I find the strength to return to where I was, but it takes a lot. And it takes even more to outstretch my arms and offer his bodiless limb to him, but I do that too.

And sweat is pouring down my forehead, and my heart is racing, and I'm shaking so badly I can't see straight. But, damn it, I am giving him his arm.

Edward stares at me, and then his arm, and back. He does this for long enough that, even though I am only sneaking fleeting glances at him, I can follow the course of his eyes.

He raises his hand in extremely gradual, tiny degrees; showing me his palm. When I am finally able to look at it for longer than a few seconds, he raises his eyebrows at me. I understand the silent warning, that he is going to take the arm from me now, and brace myself.

Even still, the instant his hand nears mine, I recoil; jerking his arm back to my chest once more.

Edward's hand freezes in response.

I take another deep breath, _He would have died for you…He would have died for you…He would have died for you…_

I thrust my arms back out toward him and, after a few seconds, Edward reaches for his missing body part again. This time I close my eyes so I can't watch his progress. And then the weight of the arm in my arms is gone.

Exhaling, I drop my hands to my sides and lift my eyelids. Edward is staring at his appendage, examining it clutched in his fingers.

I feel great pride at successfully delivering it to him under my own power, but it isn't enough. There is still something else I need to do. Something else I need to _say_.

Licking my lips, I try to form the words.

"Th-" is all that comes out in my terrified state, but the vampire peers up at me immediately.

His dark, ruby eyes are at once intense.

I make a second attempt, "Th- th- th-"

I sigh in frustration and ball my hands into fists, feeling incredibly stupid.

"Yes?" Edward coaxes.

His smooth, vampiric voice is very soft. The tone of it is overpoweringly appealing, almost hypnotic to my human ears.

My instinct is to fight the hypnosis, to resist one of the many lures the vampires use to draw us in. This time, however, the pull is helpful and I let myself fall into it; losing myself in the velvety texture and staring into the blazing depth of his gaze.

_Run, _my mind commands, knowing the tricks of the undead all too well.

And if it was any other vampire, I would have.

But it's Edward. The one I cannot bring myself to hate. The one I am dangerously attracted to.

And so there is another part of me that says, _Stay._

And that is the part I listen to.

Eerily, giving myself over to the vampire calms me. As I gaze into his eyes, I'm abruptly at peace. My heart slows, my skin cools, and I stop shaking. When I should be more afraid than ever, I feel safe.

Edward's influence is like a much-needed sedative and when I open my mouth a third time, the words flow past my lips easy and clear as day.

"Thank you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Edward**

I knew the instant the human made the conscious decision to let me in.

With unwavering focus I watched the telltale widening of her eyes; the blankness that overtook her suddenly lax expression. Her pulse, which had been pounding out a rhythm so jagged I had feared she may collapse, softened and evened out. Her arms, tense and shaking, fell limp at her sides. The frightened resistance that continuously charged the air between us lifted, leaving her vulnerable to my will.

Yet I was clueless as to why she had decided to surrender. She had been so careful not to look directly into my eyes for any extended period of time, so careful not to stand too close, it made no sense. The girl was clearly well versed on our capabilities. Still, she seemed to _force _herself to stare; to _let _herself become entranced.

But when the pair of syllables she had been choking on for the past minute erupted from her mouth effortlessly, I understood.

"Thank you," she said, and, though I have spent the last week in her company, her voice is that of a stranger's.

I take a moment now to analyze the sound I have been ashamedly trying to imagine while keeping watch over her at night.

It's deeper than I would have thought, laced with an unexpected maturity, and slightly raspy. I can't know for certain whether the harshness is from lack of use, or if it only comes off that way because it has been so long since I have heard a human speak.

"No, thank you," I say, "Does this mean you're talking now?"

Intentionally, I take a step toward her, looking into her eyes with more concentration than before. The light from the fire illuminates her pupils as they dilate and she leans instinctually closer. I smile, knowing that she will not drop my gaze until I free her of it.

"I don't know," she replies.

A thrill runs through me at the idea of receiving answers to my questions, "Well, I would like it very much if you would."

She swallows, "I shouldn't."

I dare to inch nearer, "Why?"

The girl responds in kind, leaning into my advance. I can see the ring of white around the brown her eyes are so wide. Her lips part dazedly.

Perhaps I am laying it on too thick…

"Human?" I press.

"You…You'll kill me."

This explanation confuses me. I don't see the connection between her talking and my killing her.

"Yes…" I trail off, hoping she'll elaborate further.

"If I tell you what you want to know, you'll kill me."

"I will kill you anyway."

"But you haven't yet," she states, "You saved me."

The fire beside us crackles loudly, as if to remind me of the incinerating mill worker. As if I need reminding. My every breath is a contradicting mix of the repulsive odor of burning vampire and the human's tempting blood.

"I was merely defending what is mine."

Her voice grows louder with determination, "You lost your arm. You almost died. I _saw _it."

I step closer, not to enrapture her, but to intimidate her. I harden my stare, straightening my stance with purpose.

"Your point?"

She responds as I expect; shifting her weight away from me, but unable to uproot herself from where she stands, and unable to break off from my eyes.

I wait through a long, spacious silence. The wind whistles over the trees. The leaves rustle against each other. The gust blows the human's hair out around her face. The scent burns like one of the flames from the fire shot down my throat. The sight has another effect entirely…

"I have something you want," she mumbles nearly incoherently, "Something more important than my blood. You wouldn't give up your life just to keep me."

She is wrong. There _is _something more important than her blood, but that something is the girl herself. I can't make her understand how very much she has to offer me. How very much I need her. How willingly I would die if it meant she would live.

So I allow her to believe what she wants.

I turn my attention to the fire, where it had been before the human had approached me holding my arm of all things, and sit down a careful distance from it. The heat feels unfathomably good to my eternally frozen body. I relish in the warmth, placing my detached appendage in my lap as I peer down at what is left of my less fortunate opponent.

Even in death, the mill worker's face remains contorted in fury. His head, like the rest of him, is encased in an orange glow which illuminates his tense features. The claws of combustion flicker outward as they slash vigorously across his venom-coated skin; converting stone to ash.

I can see the girl still standing out of the corner of my eye. She is rocking uncertainly on her heels, clearly undecided over what to do with herself now that I have released her from her trance.

"You can sit," I offer, thinking she would probably appreciate the warmth as well, "I won't bite, I promise."

When I detect no movement from her, I glance over my shoulder.

She remains unmoved, searching me with worried eyes for some type of hidden motive.

"I suppose a promise from me doesn't mean very much to you, does it?"

The human shakes her head slowly, and I wonder exactly what she was subject to during her stay at the blood mill.

Normally in order to convince someone you are being honest, you look them in the eye. For the human, I come to the conclusion the opposite tactic would be best. And I return to gazing at what lay, blistering and burning, before me.

"I wouldn't touch you," I tell her.

Remarkably, I seem to have done something right.

The human lowers herself to rest on the ground. She is keeping her distance, but, if I were to reach out to the full extent of my capability, I could touch her.

I find myself smiling again._ Did I not just say I wouldn't touch her?_

For a moment, all I can think of is the sheer impossibility of this situation. Sitting around with a human at my side, watching the vampire I very recently tore to pieces cremate.

"Did you know him?" I ask, nodding toward the fire.

Only once the question is out to I realize she may not respond. She'd gotten across the message she was so determined to give me and I was no longer in a position where I could coax the answer from her.

Thankfully, my worry isn't necessary.

"No," she says timidly.

She seems to debate stopping here, and then after some hesitation continues, "I mean, I've seen him a few times before. But I didn't _know _him."

I would have been pleased if she had left it at a simple "no". I grin, absurdly overjoyed with her vague elaboration.

I pounce on the opportunity to keep her talking, "In all the times you saw him, you never spoke?"

"He was a vampire. I'm human."

She said this as if it explained everything, and perhaps it does. Had my frustration with her silence been even more insane than I had originally thought it to be?

"You don't speak to vampires," I realize.

The girl huffs with disgust, "As if I ever had a choice."

I steal a glance at her without turning my head. The anger in her voice is reflected on her face, "What do you mean by that?"

She shrugs, "You ought to know. You're one of them."

"True," I allow, "But I've never worked in a blood mill."

"That doesn't make you any less of a monster. You still drink our blood, knowing exactly where it comes from and what it takes to get it. You're a cowardly murderer who doesn't even have the gull to face his own victims, and you make me sick."

Her words in combination with the venomous tone in which she says them are such a shock, I laugh, "Touché."

My human says nothing more, but sighs. I watch discreetly as she pulls her legs up to wrap her arms around her knees and glares fiercely at the grass beneath her.

"I saved you," I murmur partially to myself, sampling the phrase more so than using it as a defense.

She glances upward, her glare relaxing.

"That's why we're talking," she says.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! The response to chapter 17 was so incredible I am beyond words, and so sorry I haven't updated. I could not get this chapter to come out right no matter how many times I tried to write it. I have six pages worth of ulterior directions and extra things that didn't make it in here. But I think I finally have written a version I can live with, and hopefully you all can too! Happy holidays!


	19. Chapter 19

**Bella**

_It's too dark, and my sheets are too thin, and the room is too quiet. _

_I hate waking up in the middle of the night. I'm afraid I'll roll over and find one of them watching me. All pale, and blood thirsty, and licking their lips like I'm a dish that smells too good to wait until it's time to take it out of the oven. I've seen it happen to others before._

_My arm tingles numbly from being slept on for too long. I pull it out from underneath me, flexing my fingers to encourage the blood back down to my fingertips. I took care not lay on it when I fell asleep, but I must have moved while unconscious. No matter what I do I end up in that same position by morning._

_I pull the blankets that are tangled uselessly around my legs up over my shoulder, pressing my face firmly into the pillow to keep myself from turning around. I want so badly to look and see if anyone is behind me._

_If I could trust my own eyes, I would give in. But I know how my fear and the dark get together to play tricks on me. I really don't think I could stomach a hallucination right now._

_If I start screaming again for no reason, the vampires will not be happy._

_Oh, they got a kick out of it in the beginning, sure. They liked the idea that they were terrifying enough, powerful enough, to haunt our minds into insanity. But having to drop their ever important undead duties to answer our pointless cries got old fast. Not to mention the noise would wake up everyone around me._

_The mattress creaks with each tiny shift of my weight. I hold my breath and freeze after every whine, inching into comfort. I exhale with relief once I'm settled._

_I close my eyes, focusing on the task of relaxing. Slowly, I coax the tension from my muscles. I tell myself there is nothing behind me. I tell myself there is nothing to be afraid of. I lie and lie some more until I can almost pretend to believe. Until I feel blessed oblivion pulling me under…_

_A cold hand locks around my bare ankle, yanking me back to the surface with a jolt._

_Faster than I can sit up, the vampire at the end of my bunk tugs me to the floor. My back hits the cement with a painful smack that knocks the wind out of me. I gasp, struggling to compose myself._

"_Your number," a woman I can hardly make out in the lack of light demands._

_I squint, willing my lungs to cooperate._

"_One hundred forty nine," I report as soon as I can manage._

_My skin is cool and clammy with sickness. The vampires are all about routine, procedure. They run our lives with schedules and time slots, everything organized down to the smallest detail._

_This is not routine. And that means someone is about to die._

_Is that someone me?_

_The one still holding my ankle clicks her tongue in disappointment, "Hmph."_

_She tosses me to the side hard enough to land me on my stomach, then turns to peer over her shoulder. The silhouette of her hair swings around with her head, sending a slight breeze across my face. It smells so stunningly wonderful I briefly forget everything surrounding me._

_Then I gag in revulsion._

"_Try the next bunk over," she instructs._

_I have just enough time to register the outline of a man beside the beds of my neighbors before he whisks their sheets off of them. Their names sound off like warning bells in my head:_

_Jessica._

_Lauren._

_I'm struck with a memory from just yesterday morning, a memory of them sitting beside me at breakfast. We were eating oatmeal, and Jessica had noticed someone using the thick, lumpy paste to draw on the table._

"_Do you think she knows how to write?" she asked Lauren, excited by the thought._

_Lauren glanced over in the direction of the artist before answering, "Probably not. If she does, she won't last long."_

_The enthusiasm drained from Jessica's blue eyes immediately. I looked down into my own bowl, my spark of interest sizzled out. The vampires consider a human that can read and/or write a threat, and deal with them swiftly before they can cause trouble._

"_Hey!" Jessica exclaimed suddenly._

_I glanced over to find her with oatmeal coating one of her cheeks; Lauren giggling lightly._

"_Hold still," she told her, using a messy hand to doodle on Jessica's face._

_I watched as her finger skillfully swooped through the slop, clearing a path in the shape of a heart. When she was finished, Lauren wiped her hands on the edge of her gown, knowing that we were going to be getting clean ones that day. She took her water glass and handed it to Jessica who studied her reflection eagerly._

"_Do you like it?" _

_Jessica grinned so hard some of the oatmeal dribbled down her chin. Lauren beamed back while I looked away in envy. We all have to find comfort in something to survive here, and they have found comfort in each other._

_Their bond is so much stronger than anything I've ever had with any of my friends. There are no enemies among us, but we don't get too close to one another either. We all know how quickly we disappear. Pinning too much on one person is dangerous._

_But that had never bothered Jessica or Lauren._

"_What are your numbers?" the male vampire asks them now in a surprisingly kind voice._

_The words actually sound like a request instead of a command._

"_One hundred forty seven," Lauren says, startled._

_Jessica swallows loudly, "One hundred forty eight."_

"_One hundred forty seven…" the vampire breaths, and then looks to the female, "You're certain she's literate?"_

"_Certain. Demetri saw her writing directly on the other one's face. She is a threat to us."_

_My insides squirm; picturing Lauren's innocent doodling in a whole other light. Oh, no. No, no, no, no…_

_The vampire man sighs._

"_I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," he says to Lauren politely._

_The air feels incredibly heavy. It seems impossible to pull any into my lungs. I open my mouth in an attempt to get more oxygen, but it doesn't make any difference. The gas I can feel blowing past my throat does nothing to quell the sense of suffocation. It's like there is something lodged in my windpipe, blocking it. _

_Only when I hear Lauren start to move do I know what that something is._

_A scream I can't let out. A truth I can't reveal. A life I can't save._

_Not if I want to keep my own._

_The man leads the way into the empty path in the center of the room, between the bunk beds. Lauren follows him without another option, her legs heavy and unwilling. I wish I could see her face._

_I glance at others still in their beds, all just as awake and immobile as I am. A few put their pillows over their heads, or stick their hands to their ears. Some shoulders shake with fear, or grief, or both. No one makes a sound._

_Then Jessica springs from her bed in a surge of determination. With a loud squeak from her mattress, she takes off after her friend._

"_Jessica! No!" I hiss in a loud whisper, rising from the floor to grab her by the arm, "You don't want to see this."_

"_I have to stop them!" she replies urgently, crazily._

_She tries to get away from me, but I won't let go._

_I switch my hold to her hand and squeeze it firmly, trying to bring reality back to her, "You _can't_." _

"_Shut up, Bella!" she growls, twisting herself free and hurrying toward Lauren._

_Against my better judgment, I race after her. _

"_Jessica!" I call, as she sprints on in front of me, "Come back!" _

_The floor is freezing and slippery against the bottoms of my feet. I can see the dim glow of a light up ahead, golden, foreboding. I know if I keep going I'm at the very least going to bear witness to Lauren's murder; at the most Jessica's and mine, too. But I can't bring myself to turn around. _

_Finally, inevitably, Jessica stops._

_I come to a halt a step behind her, staring over her shoulder at a sight I never wanted to have branded into my mind. But it will be now._

_The sight of Lauren's last moment on Earth._

_Lauren, still alive and breathing, is clutched in the hands of the seemingly kind vampire man. His arm is wound around her, restraining, as she gazes at the ground… Gazes at the already dead body of the girl who had been drawing on the table…_

_She doesn't notice Jessica and I. Neither does her captor. But the woman does. She hones in on us with her black demon eyes, and, even though I don't want to, I look at her._

_Our eyes meet._

_And she smiles._

_I hate her. I hate her so much it burns._

_The vampire holding Lauren has a syringe in one of his hands. It's filled with a pale yellow fluid that's translucent and confusing. I've never seen or heard of the vampires killing us this way. It's too peaceful… Too humane for their tastes._

_But the man reaches over to pull Lauren's corn silk hair, almost the same shade as his, away from her neck. He holds the needle steady, preparing to inject it._

_Jessica explodes in front of me._

"_Don't fucking touch her!" she screams, hurling herself at the vampires before I can grab her._

"_Jessica!" I cry, but it's too late._

_The female vampire materializes between Jessica and her target in that blindingly fast way the undead have. She tears her teeth into her stomach first, or, at least, that's what it looks like to me. By the time Jessica's on the ground, the top half of her clothes is destroyed and gone with it is part of her abdomen. _

_Red is spurting everywhere, and I expect the vampire with the syringe to drop Lauren and join in the carnage, but he doesn't move. Doesn't even spare the scene a glance._

_I focus on him, doing my damnedest to avert my attention from what the woman is doing to Jessica. Ignoring the snarls, the slippery sound of guts being torn out into the open, the _smell_…_

_The monster feeds from her of course. Every swallow is amplified in the wake of the disaster._

Gulp.

Gulp.

Gulp.

_It's like the entire room is frozen. Like we were all encased in ice without any forewarning. Cold and paralyzed as I am, it seems pretty logical._

_Movement from out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. Tears are streaming down the sides of Lauren's face, though she isn't making any noise. She probably doesn't even realize the tiny droplets are there. She's blank; in shock._

_I think I might be too._

_The vampire with the syringe whispers something into her ear that I can't quite make out. I've never been very good at reading lips, but from where I'm standing it looks an awful lot like "I'm sorry". _

_What a pathetic thing to say. _

_When the needle pierces into her skin, she doesn't react. She lets the man put her out of her misery without a fight. Lauren goes limp a second later, but I find myself wondering if she was already gone._


	20. Chapter 20

**Bella**

I tumble gracelessly into alertness, tripping and tugging myself away from the gruesomely premature ending of Lauren and Jessica's lives.

Living through it once was hard enough, but my subconscious seems determined to drudge it up again every few weeks to make sure I don't forget what I saw. As if I ever could.

I wake out of breath and horrified, as usual.

But it is the unevenly lit predawn sky that greets my frantic eyes rather than the blunt, eclipsing ceiling I am so accustomed to. For an instant I wretch away from the ground and reality itself seems to tip on its' side. Then a bone chilling touch to my ankle of all places sends me reeling.

The dream was not a nightmare from the past. It was a premonition of things to come. It is happening now. Right now.

I begin to kick at the invasion without any care for the consequences.

"No!" I hear myself shouting, "Leave them alone! They don't know anything!"

It is not the heartless voice of the female vampire I expect that responds, "Leave who alone?"

But it is without a doubt a vampire.

The freezing steel fingers clamp around both of my ankles with unbelievable precision; stopping my attack single handedly. I wretch from the ground a second time as my own voice rises about five octaves higher in distress.

"Jessica! Lauren!" I squeal, their names soaring far above the tops of the trees.

The trees…

I sit up and pull my legs inward as I strain my eyes toward the vampire's face. He releases my ankles without a struggle. Recently acquired memories of the last week of my life are rapidly resurfacing and I am beginning to realize what I fool I've just made of myself.

Sure enough, my vision focuses in on the angular, inhuman features that are slowly starting to become familiar to me.

"Edward," I sigh, relieved.

I don't mean to say it out loud, but it slips off my tongue before I can stop it. The impulse to clasp my hands over my mouth like an embarrassed child is harder to ignore than I would have thought it'd be.

Edward tilts his head gradually to one side. There is a slight change in his expression, but it's still too dark for me to see.

"You do listen," he says.

I nod.

"Hmm…" he considers carefully, and then, "I thought so."

I rest my chin on my knees. A soft chorus of tweeting from the morning birds plays across the vacant air. I look up and watch the shadow of one of the feathered singers as it flies over us. My head moves with it until it disappears again into the cover of the woods.

When I look back at the vampire, he is staring at me. I think of the night before; of the mill worker and my decision to talk to the vampire who pulled me from the depths of hell. I take a deep breath to settle my queasy stomach as I debate verbalizing the silly question on my mind.

"Do you…" my voice cracks; I clear my throat, "Do you like birds?"

The vampire tilts his head in the opposite direction. He releases a small gust of air that blows across my face. His breath has the same shockingly wonderful scent as every other member of the undead populous. I am briefly stunned, then scoot away to put a few more inches of safety between the two of us.

"Birds," Edward repeats dubiously.

He watches me squirm backward with transparent disappointment. To his knowledge, he did nothing to repel me.

"I find them ornery."

"I like them. They're nice to wake up to," I tell him, feeling a little bit bad for letting him down with my unexplained withdrawal.

I stand up to stretch. While I reach my arms above my head, I remember Edward having one of his completely torn from his body. My eyes dart to his shoulder- to discover both limbs perfectly intact.

I gasp, and the vampire smiles.

"I went home while you were asleep. I didn't think I would be of very much use to you, damaged as I was."

He rises and holds the reattached arm out for my curious observation; flexing his long fingers in demonstration. The now-very-apparent sunlight catches on the knuckle of his pointer finger and reflects off it like a gemstone, though I am positive he isn't wearing any jewelry. The diamond effect the sun has on vampires was something I'd heard about, but never saw.

I blanch at its' bizarreness as Edward tells me, "The break was easy to fix with Carlisle's help. I was able to return within an hour."

His dark eyes are closer to black than burgundy. A dangerously thin ring of red around the outside is the only color I can detect. The blackness seems to swallow me piece by piece as he searches me, his voice shifting to a lower tone than I am used to.

"Your nightmares are very violent, human. It makes me wonder what torments you so."

I twist my hands together and look down.

_You do._

"Did you bring breakfast?" I ask, unsubtly changing the subject without reverting to silence.

"I didn't, actually. I'm sorry. Worrying about human food is still so strange for me," he purses his lips thoughtfully for a second, then suddenly grins at me, "Who are Jessica and Lauren?"

Flashes from my memory stir and sour any hope I had of being in a good mood. I turn, walking to the closest tree I see and pretend to be very busy with the task of peeling the bark from the trunk.

"They're dead," I say bluntly.

"Ah," Edward responds from a much nearer place than I was prepared for.

I flinch.

He had followed me.

The bark does not leave the tree easily. It catches on my increasingly dirty fingernails, and several break from the strain. I don't mind. It only adds to my already gross appearance. Maybe I'll become so disgusting I won't even appeal to the bloodthirsty predators prowling the forest at all anymore.

I free an especially mossy chunk and run my fingers over the softness. It's thick enough to be carpet. I can almost imagine-

"Would you like to come home with me today, human?"

The fragment of nature slips between my fingers and lands on my exposed toes-briefly sending a vision of Edward's arm, shirt sleeve and all, lying just inches from my feet in the grass. I shake it off and twist my neck to gape at the vampire. But I don't turn any farther because, once again, he is much closer than I anticipated.

The look in his eyes, which I could swear have grown blacker than they were even just a few minutes ago, is sinister…devious. I tell myself that I could be misinterpreting it. I tell myself the face of a vampire would probably seem sinister and devious to me no matter what. But I have seen that look too many times to convince myself of any of that.

"Surely you would appreciate a hot shower," he says, an offering in his voice, "Fresh clothes, perhaps? A bed to sleep in?"

I try to be outwardly neutral, but inside I'm at war. Of course I would _love _a hot shower, fresh clothes, and, most of all, a bed. It sounds so wonderful to me right now, there's no way it can possibly be true. And that's just the problem. With vampires especially, when something sounds too good to be true, there is no question that it is.

A surprising pang of hurt tightens my chest as I take in Edward's clearly predatory stance. Though I didn't know it until this very moment, some part of me had believed we were past this. Despite what he'd said about killing me last night, and despite what I was deeply aware of on a conscious level, my subconscious had had other ideas. Other hopes. Other dreams.

Maybe I wanted to believe Edward was good. Maybe I wanted to believe he really was as different from the others as he had always seemed. Maybe I wanted to believe he meant what he said: he _doesn't _want to be a monster. Maybe I wanted to trust him. And maybe, more than anything, I wanted to believe he was willing to sacrifice himself for me because I amounted to something in his eyes.

But I am an idiot.

I'm a valueless piece of cattle that just happens to have something the vampire wants. And he is going to bribe me with the luxuries of his home to get it.

Edward is waiting for a reaction to the images of paradise he has just intentionally laid out in front of me.

I loosen my jaw with effort, "What about your family?"

My tone is stony at best. Not exactly what he was aiming for.

"They are on their way to Mexico," he explains with a furrowed brow; I have confused him, "There was an outbreak of sorts when Rosalie and Emmett were preparing to leave, and they all thought it would be beneficial to vacation together."

He spoke with put on lightness, probably trying to make me comfortable again. Or as close to comfortable as I could ever be around him. Regardless, I have a sense that the 'outbreak' had left him none too happy with his coven.

Well, good. I hope they confuse him just as much as he confuses me.

"They wanted me to come along, but I told them I'd rather stay behind."

He gives me that searching look from earlier, the one that pulls everything it crosses into it, like a black hole, "There are a lot of windows at the house. I could open one for you, so you can still wake to the song of the birds."

Ugh.

I put forehead in the palm of my hand and shake my head. There is no getting out of this. Of course there isn't.

"And?"

"And you will be safe there. No mill worker-"

"What do you want in exchange for letting me stay there?"

Edward's mouth opens, then closes again. Usually, I would never dare to interrupt a vampire, but there is nothing usual about any of this.

He gazes at me in an odd, admiring way. I think he is impressed.

"I want you to continue talking to me," he murmurs as he cautiously advances toward me, "Not only through the cadences of your voice, but through the restlessness of your living body. Help me to understand all you represent. Let me learn you."

I breathe conscientiously through my nose. It is safe to say no one has ever spoken to me that way, and more than likely no one ever will again. The poor, overworked muscle in my chest is thumping louder in my ears, and I don't know if it's out of nervousness at his proximity or something else entirely.

My subconscious hopes and desires, all of those things I had wanted so desperately to believe, leak into my brain like a toxin. That pleasant sensation, the same one I'd gotten in the pit of my stomach when I first encountered Edward and realized my attraction to him, arises in a warm rush which heats my skin all over.

A smile blooms on my face, unwilling to be wiped away.

And then I tell him, "Okay."

And I am ecstatic. And I am an idiot. And I am an ecstatic idiot.

Edward takes in this seemingly bizarre transition just as he has taken in every other this morning, but, oddly, the change that is the strangest to me appears to make the most sense to him. His answering smile to my decidedly stupid one reeks of knowing cockiness. Obviously, this is reaction he can work with.

I know this, but my restless, living body isn't listening.

"Alright," the vampire says in the smooth, compelling way he'd used once before, "But before we go, there is one more thing I want."

I wait, making no effort whatsoever to avoid his eyes.

He raises one of his own hands and glares at it for awhile. The way he peers at it, so hatefully, almost makes it look like it is something foreign. Like it has been bewitched by a distinctly evil entity and is no longer under his control.

Then, at last, as if he were pleading, he says, "Let me touch you."

Now it's my turn to glare at his hand.

"I know it will be difficult for you," Edward sighs, "It will be difficult for me as well, given that I would like you to survive it, and I am thirsty. But I need this of you."

He has touched me before. To take me from the mill, to get my scent, and when he was hunting me. Nonetheless, I understand this is a different kind of touching, if only because he is asking my permission first.

I ring my clammy hands together, preparing to object. After all, what would be more satisfying than being able to say 'no' to a vampire? I have never been in a position, let alone had the opportunity, to deny them anything. Yet they have denied me everything.

I inhale deeply…

And then I nod.


End file.
